Koimonogatari
by Myste Illusion
Summary: Yaoi/shounen-ai. Bakura+Ryou, Ryou+Bakura, citrus. Currently hosted at Mediaminer; lemons are redirected there and are not posted at ff.net. Enjoy the fic and ignore answers to reviews from mediaminer. ^_^
1. I

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai, angst. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publicly ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't own YGO, but if I did, I couldn't have written this. I'd still be in the handcuffs on Seto Kaiba's bed. *blushes* ^^;  
  
  
Chapter 1  
Koimizu  
  
koimizu - tears of love (literally "love-water")  
  
Ryou closed the stall door behind him and slid the lock into place. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and allowed the heavy floral scent of the air freshener to fill his mind. It gave him a headache.  
  
He held his left hand in his right, as if cradling it, then unwound the long bandage wrapped around his wrist. He'd told Yugi and his friends that he'd sprained it at kendo practice last Friday. No one suspected a thing.  
  
The inner layers were crusted with dried blood; he'd have to wash it out again tonight. Three parallel scars marred his pale marble skin, not truly three scars, perhaps more like countless scars, one on top of the other. One slash had scabbed over; it was fresh, only made yesterday.  
  
Ryou gripped a point of his Sennen Ring with the fingers of his right hand. Both of his palms were ice cold, but not quite clammy as he brought the tapered point to one of the scars on his wrist. With a soft cry, he brought his hand down, leaving a new trail of crimson droplets in its wake.  
  
Ryou watched in morbid fascination as the dark droplets welled from his skin and coalesced into one large drop. It fell into the lavatory bowl, then slowly dispersed until it had completely faded away. Another drop followed the first. Ryou clenched his fist, his fingernails digging into the tender flesh of his palm so that the blood flowed faster.  
  
It was his life, flowing away, dissolving into oblivion, Ryou thought. Crimson drops, darker and more beautiful than the most precious of rubies and garnets. Ryou hadn't noticed, but tears had fallen from his eyes; they mingled with the blood and stung the open wound.  
  
It seemed to him that there was this big empty void in him, like a space where a puzzle piece should fit. This was where his mother had been before she had died, and with every passing day that space became increasingly empty. He had read once, in a novel, of a void of this nature; the author had called it a "God-shaped hole". The author had said that such a space existed in everyone, and everyone finds a way to fill it.   
  
In spite of this, Ryou was at times irrationally frightened that it would grow unchecked until in encompassed him; on some days he felt that it already had. He would feel as if he were already dead, and no one could hurt him any longer.  
  
Death had always fascinated him. He flirted with Death, coming closer, then escaping its clutches, playing hard to get. He toyed with the idea of getting too close, but he never did.   
  
He wished he had something sharper, a knife perhaps, to cut more swiftly and deeply, to draw more blood. He pupils had constricted with the pain; he bit his lip. Ryou thought of his yami, the dark presence so much like himself yet so different. He remembered vividly Bakura's mesmerizing smirk, the pair of knives he kept on his person perpetually. The keenest of blades, they were beautiful; they were dangerously so. He knew unerringly their whisper as they are drawn from their sheathes.  
  
Ryou knew the kiss of the sharp edge; he had the lattice of scars on his back to remind him. He had nearly passed out from the pain that night, but through the dark haze he had thought he heard his yami's soothing voice and felt his gentle hands smoothing salve into his wounds. Ryou liked to think that it had happened, that Bakura didn't hate him, that Bakura had committed this one act of kindness thinking that he wouldn't know. But for all he knew, it could have been only the figments of his imagination, only the scions of an idle mind.  
  
Ryou dismissed his reverie and held his wrist to his lips, savoring the sharp metallic flavor vampirically until the cut ceased to bleed. He left the stall, ran his wrist under the cold tap, and wound the bandage around it again. After slipping the Ring under his sweater, he checked his reflection and licked away the remaining traces of blood from his lips. With this, Ryou turned despondently and strode from the lavatory with a false half smile as if nothing had happened.  
  
~ glossary ~  
sennen - thousand years; millennium  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Short, short... yes I know. I promise the next chapter will be twice as long, okay? Lemon later; not for now. Fluff, maybe, lime, possibly. But not unless you R&R. ^^ 


	2. II

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai, angst. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publicly ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't own YGO, Kazuki Takahashi does. All hail Takahashi-sensei.  
  
  
Chapter 2  
Ukime  
  
ukime - a bitter experience, misery, distress  
  
Ryou felt better when he sat down across from Honda in the cafeteria; he'd been feeling a little weak when he'd walked to lunch. Jounouchi and Yugi were engaged in an absorbing duel and barely noticed him. "I activate the magic card Last Will," Yugi was saying, "which allows me to summon a monster with an attack of 1500 or less to the field when one of my monsters is sent to the Graveyard." Jou groaned as Yugi continued, "...I'll summon Mystical Elf in attack mode and set this card face down on the field."  
  
"Mystical Elf?" thought Ryou absent-mindedly, "Why the Mystical Elf? It has an attack of only 800, and would have been much more useful in defense."  
  
"Because the Pharaoh has either a magic card like Sword and Shield or a trap such as Mirror Force on the field. Either way, when he activates the card, he'll be able to obliterate Jou's Axe Raider and reduce his life points to zero," a voice hissed in his ear. Ryou flinched conspicuously.  
  
"Arigatou, Yami-sama...?" Silence greeted his reply.  
  
"Daijoubu desu ka?" Anzu asked him, concerned. "You look a little pale." "Hai. I didn't get much sleep last night." Well, it was true, anyhow. He'd woken from a particularly disturbing dream and hadn't been able to fall asleep afterwards.  
  
One thing that made this dream different from most of his others was that he actually remembered most of it: He had arrived home from school and had oddly passed through the front door as if he were a ghost. Set on immediately starting his homework, he had floated up the stairs to his bedroom -- and walked in on his yami and himself in a rather uncompromising situation.   
  
Neither Bakura nor the Ryou pinned under him seemed to notice his interruption, and he had watched in shocked silence as the figures made love in his bed. Ryou felt his breath catch in his throat as they climaxed. "Ryou!" Bakura cried through his rhythmic groans. "Aishiteru! Aishiteru..." Ryou's soft cries could be heard beneath Bakura's louder ones.  
  
Ryou's eyes had flown open, his sheets sticky and wound hopelessly around his hips. It had been nearly pitch dark; the sky had only just begun to lighten and it had only been 3:45 am. He had been more than a little unsettled, and he hadn't been able to fall asleep afterwards.   
  
Ryou didn't quite know what to think of the dream. He knew that he did love Bakura, and he had never denied himself that truth. That Bakura was in fact another boy didn't particularly bother him; whether he loved a girl or a boy, it was love all the same. Despite his increasingly torrid dreams, he hadn't been fully aware that his attraction to the dark spirit was on a sexual level until last night. In addition to this, he had also never noticed that he had any voyeuristic inclinations. Maybe he hadn't ever had any until now.  
  
Neiaku, he chided himself, and forced his attentions to the duel before his thoughts became evident. Yugi had indeed set Sword and Shield, but Jou had fortunately played his Red-Eyes Black Dragon. Its attack resulted in a stalemate and both monsters were obliterated as a result, however, Gamma the Magnet Warrior's defense of 1800 reduced Jou's life points to a mere 50.  
  
The tinny bell rang lethargically, signaling the end of Ryou's lunch break and the beginning of his least favorite block of the day. It was just as well; Ryou didn't think he could bear listening to Jou's indignant swears when he eventually lost the duel. He carefully folded the aluminum foil around his bagel and cream cheese and slipped it into his backpack.  
  
Ryou changed into his gym clothes quickly and efficiently, wishing he were somewhere else. It wasn't as if he couldn't outdo everyone else in the class, except for perhaps Jou and his friend Honda Hiroto; he most certainly could. It was the instructor, Goshima-sensei, who made the class nearly unbearable.   
  
The man was a sukebei -- even Jou seemed to think so. He seemed to pick on Ryou more than he did any other student, and since his father was perpetually out of town, he was especially vulnerable. There were times when Ryou could practically feel the prurient gym teacher's eyes on his ass. Ryou sighed and trudged toward the weight room on the opposite end of the school.  
  
"Well, since we're in weight training and you can't lift today, you might as well be good for something," Goshima-sensei drawled. "Why don't you be my example today, hm?" "Hai, Goshima-sensei," Ryou answered through clenched teeth. He stepped onto a low platform; he was familiar with this procedure.   
  
The instructor proceeded to "demonstrate" the locations of several muscles and how they move, through his intentions were clear to Ryou and to several other students. "The bench press and the butterfly develops the pectorals," he explained, stroking Ryou's chest with his palms. "This ab machine tones the obliques and abdominal muscles." He leered at Ryou, mentally undressing the boy as he ran his fingers over his stomach and sides; Jou glared daggers at him, but he chose to ignore it. "The leg curls strengthen your gluteus maximus and hamstrings." Ryou squirmed inwardly from the instructor's touch.   
  
After assigning pairs of student to various stations, Goshima-sensei turned to face Ryou. "You don't need your wrist to do leg curls. Thirty reps. Now. When you're done, you can do two more sets." Ryou said nothing. It figured that he'd have to do an exercise in which he was to lay face down on a bench with his legs apart and ass elevated. He fingered his duel monsters deck in his pocket and toyed with the idea of summoning his Reaper of the Cards.  
  
I hate you, thought Ryou as he began his leg curls. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. Ryou repeated his affirmation, channeling his bitter loathing into the exercise and losing count of his reps. I hate you! he screamed in his mind. He no longer noticed the passage of time or the strain of his exhausted muscles. I hate you. He pictured in his mind the image of the gym teacher half eaten by his Man-Eater Bug. I hate you, he thought. I hate you.  
  
The bell rang again before Ryou knew it, and Ryou swung his legs off the bench. He joined Jou and Honda, his legs feeling leaden. "It'll get better, I promise," Jou told him. "You only have to put up wi' that freak for only five more weeks. Then you can try out for track with me and Honda-kun." "Hai, Jou-kun," Ryou said listlessly. "I'm sure it will."  
  
~ glossary ~  
arigatou - thanks (colloquial)  
daijoubu desu ka? - are you alright?; are you okay?  
hai - yes  
aishiteru - i love you  
neiaku - pervert; perverse person  
sensei - teacher; master; doctor  
sukebei - lecher  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Longer, just like I promised. Yes, it will get better, just like Jou says, but it'll happen sooner than Ryou thinks. In fact, it'll happen in the next chapter. But not unless you R&R. ^^ 


	3. III

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai, angst. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publicly ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't own YGO, I just mentally undress Seto Kaiba. *licks her lips*  
  
  
Chapter 3  
Naimenteki Kyou  
  
naimenteki kyou - inner turmoil  
  
Bakura had been feeling uneasy lately; his hikari had since last Friday completely shut off the link between them. Ryou had been keeping something from him; he was sure of this. He had attempted to force open the link the day before, and Ryou had closed it before he could learn much. In the instant the link was open, however, he perceived that Ryou had an injury of some type and had tasted blood. Something was wrong, dreadfully wrong, and Ryou refused to enlighten him. It shouldn't have hurt him as badly as it did; he had done nothing to deserve Ryou's trust, after all.  
  
He had betrayed Ryou's trust too many times, he'd hurt him too much. It was no wonder then, that Ryou didn't love him. If only Ryou could understand what made him do the things he did. If only he could tell him. He couldn't; it would bring him closer to Ryou. He couldn't risk it.  
  
How much pain had the pharaoh brought him? It was too great to imagine. The pharaoh had been a cruel, merciless man. He had enslaved his parents to toil in the construction of his pyramid, one that he would never use. He had taken his sister and himself as pleasure slaves, and later, had offered his lover to the gods. When Bakura had finally escaped, he was forced to leave his sister behind, burdened with the pharaoh's unborn child.   
  
Forced to become a tomb robber, he had barely eked out a living, if you could call it that. There were tomb robbers more experienced than he, more skilled. He had lived at night, hidden by shadows for fear of capture, and from that humble beginning had become the best in the trade. With each theft, he felt himself become number to the pain, and he welcomed it.  
  
In his travels he had met a kindred soul, an assassin by the name of Malik -- oh, how he had lusted for the boy! Malik, with the exotic blond hair and violet eyes, had been the very embodiment of sex. That was all that it really had been, lust, not love. Malik had given him no more than mere physical satiation, but Bakura had embraced the illusion anyway.  
  
Even this the pharaoh had to take away, he thought bitterly. The pharaoh had worn down his defensive shield layer by layer, until he lay naked and vulnerable so that he could once again experience the pain to which he once thought himself immune. He'd been captured and informed that his sister had died in childbirth, then scourged to within a breath of his life; even then, the pharaoh had not had the mercy to finish him. He had instead been sealed inside the Sennen Ring to grieve his losses for five thousand more years.   
  
How could the pharaoh, after all he had done, expect him to accept that he had changed? He was beginning to; despite the grudges he held. Never before had he hesitated to kill him, given the chance, and not even he knew why he did. Perhaps it was a result of his aibou's relationship to the pharaoh's.   
  
Perhaps it was his relationship to his own aibou.  
  
Bakura steeled himself. He could no longer let anything, anyone, cause him pain any longer. If he allowed himself to love Ryou, he could only be hurt. Ryou had the gift of a mortal, a short but sweet life, a mere blink of an eye in Bakura's. He could wake up one morning, trapped within his soul room to grieve for his hikari for all eternity; and eternity, he knew, was much longer than a mere five thousand years.  
  
No matter what happened, he could not, would not fall in love with Ryou, he thought savagely. But it was too late. He already had.  
  
Bakura sat down heavily on the edge of Ryou's bed and suppressed a deep sigh. He could feel his resolve weaken already. He closed his eyes wearily; like Ryou, and because of Ryou, he hadn't gotten much sleep either.  
  
His hikari had unknowingly roused him from his sleep at half past three this morning. He had materialized at Ryou's bedside, concerned. Ryou moaned in his sleep, as if in pain; his sheets had slid down to tangle about his waist with his writhing. Bakura thought it best to wake his aibou and reassure him that it was all a nightmare, and recoiled in surprise.  
  
"Aishiteru! Aishiteru..." Ryou breathed in his sleep. Bakura realized, rather embarrassed, that the dream hadn't been a nightmare after all, but a pleasant dream indeed, to say the least... He wondered whom his hikari was dreaming of. Could it perhaps be... him? he mused. No, it couldn't be... He didn't know whether Ryou liked boys or not... and besides, why was he concerned anyway? He didn't love Ryou, did he?  
  
But he wanted him.  
  
Before he could stop himself, Bakura reached out and gently caressed Ryou's cheek with his fingers. His skin is so smooth, he thought to himself. His lips retraced his fingers' path. Ryou sighed contentedly in his sleep.   
  
Bakura felt that if he stayed any longer, he would never be able to leave. He returned to his Ring, determined to forget the entire episode, but he could not. Here he was again, sitting at the edge of Ryou's bed newly outfitted in crisp white sheets, agonizing over what he had seen and heard last night. Ryou's "Aishiteru! Aishiteru..." haunted him relentlessly. He longed to hear these words from Ryou's lips, when he was awake.  
  
He heard the quiet click of the front door; Ryou was home from school. Bakura didn't know if he could face him today. He'd never felt so insecure in his life, for he knew that the more he felt for Ryou, the more he had to push him away.  
  
~ glossary ~  
  
hikari - light, as opposed to dark (yami)  
aibou - companion  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Thank you so much for your reviews!!! *flattered* 4 reviews in the first day! This chapter was supposed to be combined with the next one, but I couldn't find a way to make them merge seamlessly and I didn't want to disappoint you by posting really late. Finals are coming up, and I'm stressing over the English Honors final which is likely to be an essay. *sweatdrops*   
  
So you see, Bakura does love Ryou... and things do get better from this point forward. Especially in the next chapter... watch for some Bakura & Ryou interaction ... involving some hot oil ... vanilla-scented if you must know... hehe I hope I didn't give away too much. (But no yummy chapter unless you R&R.)  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
By the way, there was one fanfic that I was totally addicted to... it was titled "Submit to Me" and was a Seto x Jou lemon that took place in ancient Egypt where Seto was a high priest and Jou was a slave. If anyone knows the author of this fic and/or where to find it, I'd really appreciate it if someone told me.  
  
While I was reading fanfics here at mediaminer, I've discovered that an amazingly large number of people have no idea how to pronounce the names of the characters. So here's a mini tutorial:  
  
there are only five vowel sounds in japanese, not like in english where for instance "o" can be pronounced as in "cottage" or as in "obey".  
"a" is always pronounced the same way it is in "father"  
"i" is always pronounced the same way it is in "think"  
"u" is always pronounced the same way it is in "truth"  
"e" is always pronounced the same way it is in "send"  
"o" is always pronounced the same way it is in "horse"  
there are NO exceptions to this rule (yes, that does mean the english pronunciation of "kamikaze" and especially "karaoke" among other things is incorrect.)  
  
when an "o" is followed by an "u", as in "ryou", the "ou" is read as a long "o" sound; ryou DOES NOT rhyme with "you". this also applies to "jounouchi". by the way, even through ryou may look like it is two syllables, it is actually only one. this particular sound may be difficult to pronounce for some people, but it's not impossible.  
  
bakura - the accent is on the "ba" syllable, not on "ku" as it is in the english dub. so it's BAkura, not baKUra.  
  
since there is no difference between l and r in japanese, malik and marik sound the same. i just use them to distinguish the two characters.  
  
sometimes translators change the way a character's name is spelled, to make in look better. for instance, heero yuy was originally hiiro yui.  
  
anyways, to wrap this all up, i'd like to say that i'm not japanese, i'm not a japanese expert, i'm not fluent, i've just taken some japanese in high school. but don't worry; i'm very sure that everything in this tutorial is true. ^^ 


	4. IV

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai, angst, citrus. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publicly ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't own YGO, and if you didn't know that by now you must be a moron.  
  
  
Chapter 4  
Nagusami  
  
nagusami - consolation; comfort  
  
Bakura listened carefully for a moment, checking for the steady, light footsteps that he recognized as Ryou's. Something was different about his steps today; Bakura couldn't quite tell what it was. He glanced up, perplexed.  
  
Ryou limped up the stairs, each step painful. He winced as his muscles contracted, threatening to cramp painfully. He silently reminded himself not to lose his temper so violently next time; the overdone reps cost him dearly. As it were, only the smallest steps were painless; walking up and down the stairs was agony. At least today was Friday, and he'd have an entire weekend to heal, though at his present condition he didn't think it would do any good.  
  
Bakura narrowed his eyes, trying to recall where he had seen such an odd gait before... It was in Ancient Egypt, he was sure. Wait... Malik had walked like that once, for almost three days, after he and Bakura had... Bakura smirked at no one in particular, then instantly sobered.  
  
It couldn't be. Could it? After all, he hadn't been watching Ryou too closely for the past few days, and the barrier the Ryou had put up on his side of their link was nearly impenetrable. His hikari could very well be hiding something of this nature from him.  
  
"Ryou."  
  
Ryou's head snapped up at his name. His yami's piercing kohl-rimmed eyes met his own. "Konnichi wa, Yami-sama," he said hesitantly.   
  
"Come here." Bakura drew an invisible line in the carpet on which his hikari was to stand. Ryou was familiar with this gesture; although standing so close to Bakura intimidated him at times, Bakura had beaten him to within a breath of his life the few times he had refused to comply. He stood facing his other, his toes on the line.  
  
Bakura stood at his full height, not particularly tall, but still a good deal taller than Ryou. "Why are you limping? Tell me." Ryou didn't know whether to answer or not. Either way he was likely to be rewarded with a sharp slap.  
  
"Tell me!" Ryou flinched, accidentally sending through their link an image of his gym instructor and the "demonstration" in class that day. Bakura stiffened. "Who is he?" he asked.  
  
"My gym instructor. Goshima-sensei," Ryou said timidly.   
  
"Your teacher." Ryou nodded. "And he touched you? Without your consent?"  
  
"With my consent, sort of --" Bakura's slap left a fading pink outline of a hand on Ryou's left cheek before he could finish explaining. "You whore!" Bakura hissed. "I'll have to teach you restraint, won't I? How can you be so weak! Why didn't you fight back? You were everyone's scapegoat, and now you're everyone's slut!"  
  
"No... You have to listen. You don't understand! I didn't want him to... and he didn't take me!" Ryou cried in frustration. "And that's not why I was limping!" He stopped when a slap rained down on his other cheek.  
  
"You lie," Bakura said under his breath, turning away from Ryou. Ryou bit his lip and thought it best not to say anything at the moment.  
  
After a brief moment of silence, Bakura turned to face his hikari again with a curt one-word command.  
  
"Strip."  
  
Wide-eyed, Ryou did as his yami instructed and removed his clothing without ceremony. His cream-colored jumper, green oxford shirt, and slacks lay in a heap at the foot of his bed. Wearing only his Sennen Ring and a pair of blue plaid boxers, he looked up at Bakura expectantly. He wasn't sure what his yami had in store for him, but if he wanted to take him... Ryou had always wanted to give Bakura his virginity, although this wasn't exactly what he had had in mind.  
  
Bakura allowed a small smirk to play across his lips. His aibou stood before him exactly as he had done in several of his many fantasies; it was a shame that he wouldn't be playing them out this time. He gestured toward the boxers. "Off. Then facedown on the bed."  
  
Ryou swallowed hard. He sat on the edge of his bed, his back to Bakura, then slipped the boxers off his hips and settled on his stomach in one fluid motion. The cooling afternoon breeze raised goosebumps on his exposed skin, making him shiver nervously.   
  
Bakura ran his fingers gently over Ryou's back and backside. No bruises marred his hikari's pale marble skin apart from those that he had created. There were no signs of forceful entry whatsoever. A pang of guilt washed over him. He had created those scars, those bruises; he had caused them in blind anger. He didn't even remember why he had done it, only that it had been the easiest thing to do at the moment.  
  
What right had he to accuse Ryou of weakness? It was he who was weak; he'd always followed his impulses because they were easier to listen to than Ryou's reason was, while Ryou had taken his abuses wordlessly. He closed his eyes for a moment, determined not to be overwhelmed by the guilt.  
  
"Ryou?" he queried softly. "Why, then, were you limping?"  
  
Tears of relief spilled through Ryou's lashes; his yami wasn't angry, he wasn't going to hurt him, at least not now. The sheets muffled his words, and his choking sobs and gasps of hysteria distorted his speech so that he gave up trying to talk altogether.   
  
The recent memories that Ryou flooded into his mind left him numb. Ryou's experiences nearly mirrored his own experiences of the rigorous training he'd endured as a tomb robber.  
  
Ryou looked up at him tentatively, his wide, trusting eyes searching his face for a reaction. Bakura's features softened. "Chotto matte," he told Ryou. "And don't leave. I'll be right back."  
  
Ryou closed his eyes. He had had a long day, and the soft mattress under him was very tempting. He yawned quietly and hoped his yami would be back soon.  
  
Bakura rummaged through the bottles on the glass shelves of the medicine cabinet. He had no idea how Ryou could have so many different scented bubble baths, lotions, and oils. It was impossible to choose any one of them, and even more impossible to find it. Bakura finally selected a tall, ornate glass bottle of vanilla-sandalwood oil, a pale golden liquid with a delicate sweet, heady scent.  
  
With the bottle in one hand, Bakura stepped back into Ryou's bedroom and stood stock-still. He held his breath, blinked and looked again, as if with new eyes. The boy was gorgeous. How could he not notice? A shock of unruly white hair framed his face and curled in just above his shoulder blades. His smooth ivory skin covered lithe muscles, defined but not bulky. The small of his back was arched just so, and Bakura knew his hand would fit perfectly there; in contrast to the perfectly rounded bottom that Bakura knew would fit impeccably in his palms.  
  
Bakura's mouth went dry, his breathing erratic. He'd never wanted Ryou as much as he did right then; a vague image passed through his thoughts, of himself pounding Ryou into the headboard. He inhaled sharply, his tight leather pants tightening further.  
  
Ryou heard his yami's breathing behind him. He looked up to meet his eyes, then looked quickly away. What was it that he had seen in Bakura's eyes? Whatever it was, it was too intense for Ryou to meet for long.   
  
Setting the bottle on Ryou's nightstand, he poured a small pool of oil into his palm, warming it between his hands. His hikari squirmed uncomfortably in the silence, but stilled at his touch. Bakura applied the scented oil to Ryou's neck and shoulders, kneading the knots from his muscles. Ryou closed his eyes in obvious pleasure.  
  
As Bakura worked the oil into Ryou's skin, he found that it was extremely difficult to concentrate on what he did. Ryou's muscles tightened under his fingers as he kneaded his sore buttocks and thighs. Bakura thought he heard Ryou moan quietly into the pillow, and his eyes widened as he saw Ryou's hips thrust involuntarily into the sheets.   
  
Ryou bit his lower lip, stifling his moans. Bakura's touch was heavenly, and though Ryou had no idea what possessed Bakura to give him this massage, he didn't want to ask questions. As he felt Bakura's hand leave his now slightly flushed skin, he sighed sleepily. His yami covered him with a thin comforter and shut the blinds, then left Ryou's bedroom, closing the door quietly.  
  
Bakura held the glass bottle in his slightly trembling fingers, not quite believing what he'd done. He didn't even know why he'd done it. He didn't do it for Ryou, he tried to convince himself, but unsurprisingly, it wasn't very convincing.  
  
He returned the bottle to its place on the shelf, then retired to his soul room to ponder the question. Though he tried desperately to justify his actions, he found that oddly, he didn't regret it at all.  
  
~ glossary ~  
chotto matte - wait a moment (literally "a little wait")  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Yay! Limey! (But believe me, it took real effort to not turn this into a PWP ^^;) And... the longest chappie of this fic so far! ^^ And... I don't think you'll be seeing any real angst for five or six more chapters!   
  
Chibi Ryou: *sniffle* *tears of happiness*  
  
Please review? *big violet Yugi eyes* Please? *blinks cutely*  
^^; *needs motivation* -- correction: needs a lot of motivation 


	5. V

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai, masturbation. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publicly ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't own YGO, but I'm writing this fic anyway for my lovely readers and reviewers. So sue me. j/k ^^  
  
  
Aiite... first things first. Doumo arigatou gozaimasu for the reviews!!! ^^  
  
Slice - hehe... so did I. In fact, Goshima-sensei will drop off the face of the earth in chapter seven. so stay tuned! (uh... gomen for the cheesiness... aheh ^_^;)  
  
Yami's Girl710 - (and to those of you who are confused about what happened) Ryou was limping up the stairs because he'd overdone his leg curls and had really sore muscles. (see end of chapter two) If you remember those awful contraptions in the weight room at your high school or gym, you'd know what I meant. Bakura misunderstood the significance of his limp and thought Ryou had been raped. (Which he hadn't, for those of you who are still confused.)  
  
Yami-Jen - *went ecstatic when I saw your review* just thought you'd like to know ^_^;  
  
Chapter 5  
Koiji ga Inamenai desu.  
  
koiji ga inamenai desu - (one) cannot deny love's pathway  
  
Ryou heard his yami's footsteps fade. He inhaled the vanilla-sandalwood scent, still fresh on his skin, to remind himself that what he thought has happened in the past half hour had actually happened. He turned onto his side, relieved to find that his muscles ached less than they had before. And that his arousal ached more.  
  
He groaned. It didn't surprise him at all that his yami's ministrations would leave him in this condition. He wished irrationally that Bakura would finish what he'd begun and step back into the room, profess his love, then fuck like bunnies until Monday morning. Ryou laughed drily at his own naive fantasy. It was plainly impossible. Bakura didn't love him; Bakura didn't even like him. He probably couldn't care less for how Ryou felt about him. Yet... from all perspectives, it seemed as if his yami had actually tried to comfort him.  
  
Ryou didn't understand it. At one moment his yami had been exorbitantly angry with him, and the next he's shown him more kindness than Ryou believed he was capable of. The more he thought about it, the more he came to doubt everything he'd once believed. Was Bakura really angry with him, or was he just violently overprotective? Everything seemed to point to the latter.   
  
That would mean Bakura cared for him. Oh, but if only he did! Ryou laughed humorlessly. Heh, he told himself. Do you really believe he cares? Do you think there's even a chance he does? Of course not. You're a fool to believe these pointless musings; you hang on to every little gesture and try to interpret them as love as if you were a lovesick schoolgirl.   
  
He sighed in resigned longing and closed his fingers around his length. At least in his fantasies Bakura loved him. At least his fantasies were in his control, even if nothing else was.   
  
He closed his eyes and imagined that it was Bakura's hand and not his own that was stroking his cock. Did Bakura touch himself like this when he was alone? Did he think these thoughts? The image alone made Ryou moan aloud. He thrust harder into his fist, throwing his head back and lifting his hips off the mattress. The muscles of his thighs and calves tightened painfully, but he didn't care.  
  
He felt himself grow close, and slowed his pace to a near stop. Ryou repeated his yami's name in his mind until it became a fevered mantra and he could think of nothing else. He moved slowly, bringing himself to the precipice of his control and rode it for as long as he could, then slammed his fist down in one hard, fast pump, throwing himself over the edge.  
  
"Bakura...!" he cried aloud as he climaxed into his bandage-wrapped hand. He flushed a little; he liked the way his yami's name sounded on his lips. It sounded right, as nothing ever had.  
  
This is where my yami's supposed to come in, he thought wistfully, cleaning his fingers as well as he could with a tissue. This is the part where he's supposed to fling open the door and accuse me of crying his name. I'm supposed to be mortified that he'd been eavesdropping, and he's supposed to comfort me and tell me that he's wanted me all this time, too...  
  
Naturally, it didn't happen, nor did Ryou really think it would, but he liked to think it might. Ryou sank into his pillow, listening to the pounding of his heart in his ears recede. He felt empty and still unfulfilled, as if something were missing. Exhausted, he curled on his side and drifted into a dreamless sleep.  
  
¤¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤¤  
  
Bakura cursed himself for his weakness. What would his hikari think of him now? That he'd gone soft? Or even worse... like a five thousand year old hormone overrun queer from Egypt. He groaned inwardly.  
  
Why did Ryou have to be so infuriating? The boy had to be perpetually near, yet out of reach, testing Bakura's self-control with each passing moment of existence.   
  
He wanted, just once, to know the taste of Ryou's lips beneath his own, but he didn't think he could be satisfied with just one taste. He knew that if he had one taste, he'd want another, and want each kiss more than he did the last until kisses weren't enough.  
  
Ultimately, he wanted to be the first to show Ryou the pleasures of the flesh and the first to know him fully. He could have had it today. But he didn't, he couldn't, and he didn't know why until now. Ryou had looked so tempting, yet so vulnerable... Bakura felt a sharp sweetness slice through him. This was why he couldn't just take the boy right then and there. He didn't want it like this. He didn't want it without Ryou's love.  
  
He loved Ryou, he knew, devastated. He'd tried everything to keep it from happening, and he thought he'd succeeded. It seemed that, for him, it was never "Oh shit, I'm falling." It was always "Oh shit, I've fallen."   
  
He swore, cursing everything from his Sennen Ring to his Duel Monster's deck. "I defy you, stars!" he cried, his voice reverberating within his soul room. The lonely sound faded away to leave him in complete silence.   
  
Bakura wanted, for once in his life, to be completely in charge. It seemed to him that everything was out of his hands, that he had no control over what happened to him and to those around him.   
  
He wanted too many things, but what he wanted or didn't want didn't matter. In the past, he never got what he wanted, and there were no signs that it would be any different now.  
  
¤¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤¤  
  
Ryou opened his eyes groggily and sat up with a start. It's 7:50 already, he thought frantically. School starts in twelve minutes! I can't take a shower today... I've missed the bus already... He threw off his covers and felt a cool draft hit his bare skin. Wait a minute... why the hell am I naked?!  
  
Gradually, he recalled the events of the past afternoon. He felt blood flush his cheeks as he pulled on his flannel pajamas and wondered how he was going to face his yami after what had happened. As he walked down the stairs, still wincing with each step, he drew the conclusion that he should just pretend nothing happened.  
  
To his relief, Bakura wasn't downstairs. Ryou padded across the cold tile of the kitchen floor and took a frozen dinner from the freezer.   
  
Ryou leaned listlessly against the cool kitchen counter as his meal microwaved. How could he have possibly thought it was morning? Even if it were, it would have been Saturday. This is probably the third stupid thing I've done today, he thought disgustedly. The first being all of those extra leg curls, and the second telling Bakura I gave Goshima-sensei consent to touch me.  
  
He ate his unevenly heated linguini alone at the kitchen table, throwing his fork into the sink with a clatter and the empty box into a wastebasket. Ryou sighed deeply, wondering if this was what the rest of his life was going to be like.   
  
Ryou walked despondently back up the stairs and brushed his teeth. He unwound the bandage around his wrist, wincing as he pulled away the last few inches that stuck to his skin with dried blood. This bandage was beyond reuse -- he tossed it into the toilet, flushed, and replaced it with a clean bandage from his first aid kit.   
  
Slippling between his sheets, he closed his eyes, letting himself materialize in the hallway between the two soul rooms. Two doors appeared before him, equally ominous. Ryou chose the left, the one that belonged to his yami.  
  
Hesitantly, he pushed open the door. His yami's soul room was often a literal labyrinth, as treacherous and full of pitfalls as the pyramids his yami used to rob.   
  
In the light that flooded from the cresset lamp bracketed to the wall, Ryou watched in spellbound silence the figure that lay haphazardly on a black marble altar. Carefully avoiding the numerous booby traps, Ryou crossed the room to stand as close as he dared.  
  
Ryou looked at his yami's lightly parted lips and watched his body rise and fall with his even breathing. This was the only time he could allow his eyes the liberty to wander over Bakura's perfection in leisure; he'd come here every night for a long time. His heart ached that he could not press his lips to Bakura's; Bakura would hate him, perhaps kill him for it. For one moment Ryou thought it might be worth it; if he could feel Bakura's lips beneath his and hold his body close just once, he wouldn't care if he died.  
  
He reached out to trace Bakura's jawline with a fingertip, marveling at the way his yami could wrench his heart even in sleep. Bakura's eyelashes fluttered. Fearing that his yami should wake, he turned to leave, and found that he could not do so. He felt his heart stop and plunge in dread.  
  
Bakura's fingers had closed in a viselike grip around his wrist.  
  
Author's Note:  
  
O_o I know what happens next, do you?  
  
Ryou: I know! I know! I make a big, gigantic boo-boo and Bakura-chan ca-  
Me: *clamps hand over Ryou's mouth* Damare, bishie! You're giving it away!  
Ryou: mmph...!  
Me: He's telling you to please review. *sweatdrops*  
  
~ glossary ~  
damare - shut up  
  
*quickly scribbling another disclaimer*  
Disclaimer (cont'd): and the words "I defy you, stars!" are borrowed from William Shakespeare's play "Romeo and Juliet". "Romeo and Juliet" is not copyrighted by William Shakespeare, nor do historians have proof that the plays and sonnets credited to Shakespeare were actually written by him. etc. etc. etc. 


	6. VI

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai, miniature cliffie. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publicly ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't own YGO, but if I did, Seto Kaiba would be mine. (Wait a minute... he *is* mine!)  
  
Seto: I'm afraid you're mistaken. I belong to no one.  
  
Me: Apparently, I'm not. *points to Gameboy Advance screen, where Seto is saying "You're mine."*  
  
Seto: O_o The statement that you're mine doesn't make me yours.  
  
Me: Quit arguing semantics with me, Kaiba-boy. *kisses him* You're mine. *laughs triumphantly*  
  
Seto: ...  
  
Chapter 6  
Kyogi Katei  
  
kyogi katei - untrue assumptions  
  
"Yami-sama," Ryou whimpered brokenly. The grip on his wrist tightened. "Yami-sama... Gomen nasai, I won't do it again, I promise, I was just..." He stopped. He couldn't tell Bakura what he was just doing, or why.  
  
Bakura waited for his hikari to finish the sentence. "You were just...?" He wrenched Ryou's arm, forcing the boy to face him. Ryou kept his eyes down, and did not reply.  
  
"What were you doing in my soul room? And why do you do this so stealthily, as if you fear my knowledge of it?" Ryou bit his lip. "I do not truly sleep, you must realize. I have no need; I merely rest my soul for a time." He paused. "I know that you've been here every night for some time now." Ryou inhaled sharply, breaking into a cold sweat.  
  
"Were you perhaps seeking to dispose of me?" Ryou stiffened. The thought had never crossed his mind. "It is natural to assume that one is more vulnerable in sleep." Bakura's voice had begun to take on the tone of anger-driven madness. "Is my end close, my hikari?" He smirked. "You have kept our link closed for the past week, keeping your whereabouts a mystery to me. Can you taste victory yet, hikari?" He lifted Ryou's chin with a finger and drew his face close to his, meeting his eyes. "Or do you taste defeat?"  
  
Ryou forced his eyes away. "That's not true!"  
  
"Then what, pray tell, were you doing?" Bakura's voice mocked him.  
  
"I can't tell you. You don't understand!" In desperation, Ryou tried to snatch his hand back, and in failure, struck out with his free one. On contact, his eyes widened, realizing his mistake.  
  
His yami captured the hand that had struck him, releasing his hold on the other. Bakura narrowed his eyes. "This wrist was sprained, was it not? Then how do you strike me so forcefully and painlessly?"  
  
"I can't tell you," Ryou repeated.  
  
"What are you hiding from me, Ryou?" Bakura held Ryou's arm steady and slowly began to unwrap the bandage as Ryou tried futilely to escape.   
  
Bakura's eyes widened when the three parallel slashes first came into view. He cried out silently in denial; he knew what they meant. What had he done? Had he driven Ryou to this? He refused to believe he had.  
  
"These cuts are not mine," he forced himself to speak. "What is the meaning of this?" Then in a softer voice, "Who did this to you?" He had to ask, though he knew the answers well.  
  
Ryou turned, looked him in the eye, and gave him the answer he most feared. "I did."  
  
Ryou thought he would break down and cry now, but to his amazement, no tears fell from his eyes. Somehow, he'd found the strength to stand here and face his yami.  
  
Bakura did not look away either, but found that no words came to his lips. His heart awash in guilt, he looked down helplessly into Ryou's defiant eyes. He was taken aback for a moment, feeling his blood heat again. So beautiful, he thought to himself. Why do I feel this way in the most irelevant situations?   
  
When he felt his voice return, he still could not speak. But why? he mouthed.  
  
"Why do you care? You hate me." Ryou said coldly.  
  
Bakura turned away. He couldn't bear to listen any longer; his hikari's words could have turned even his blood to ice. "Do I?" he heard himself speak.  
  
"What do you mean, yami?" Ryou asked, cautiously. It was one of those many moments, Bakura thought, that he wanted to just kiss him senseless. His hikari was just so disarming at times, frigid in bitter anger at one moment, and yet just two words from him could melt him in the next.  
  
"Go back to bed, Ryou. It's been a long day for you. You need your rest." Bakura needed to get Ryou out of here. He didn't know if he could trust himself if Ryou stayed any longer.  
  
Ryou found the distance to the door diminished, and as soon as he stepped out of his yami's soul room, was tucked snugly in bed. Long after he fell asleep, Bakura still stared at the door of his soul room, struggling to comprehend all that had happened today.  
  
Author's Note:  
  
I know this was short, but what can I do during finals week? I'll have chapter seven uploaded next week... sigh. Starting next week, I'll be taking three hour night classes at a community college on Monday and Friday in addition to high school. I hope I'll survive the semester...  
  
Jou: Dang... stop overworking yourself! Relax!  
  
Me: I can't, I have to... be better... than everyone... else...  
  
Seto: Hn. You'll never be better than I. *pauses for a moment* Here, you can have these ultra-caffeinated coffee candies. I use them when I work late.  
  
Me: Arigatou, Seto-chan... zzz...  
  
Seto: *puts up sign: "Do Not Disturb: She's Sleeping (but a review would be nice)"* 


	7. VII

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publically ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't...  
  
Seto: She doesn't own YGO, and thankfully, doesn't own me.  
  
Me: *shows up with riding crop, some silk scarves, and a can of whipped cream* Happy Valentine's Day, Seto.  
  
Seto: ...Although I sometimes wish she did.  
  
Me: O_o  
  
Chapter 7  
Kumogakure  
  
kumogakure - disappearance  
  
The remainder of the weekend passed uneventfully for Ryou. His yami chose to make make no appearance, and his household chores were interrupted only by homework and a call from Yugi to make sure he was doing okay without his father. Ryou did not find his yami's reclusion odd; the phases of Bakura's moods often caused him to retreat to the Ring in week long stretches.  
  
The slashes on his wrists had unnaturally healed overnight, leaving three thin scars, and he did not question what had happened. The soreness in his muscles had faded away to a mere twinge by Sunday afternoon, and Ryou was in relatively good humor, though he knew that he would have to face his lecherous gym teacher again tomorrow.  
  
Monday morning arrived all too soon, and after finishing his breakfast, Ryou left for school. Stopping at the Game Shop, he was joined by Anzu and Yugi, who had been trying to carry a conversation but found only uncomfortable silence between them.   
  
Domino High School went about its ordinary activities. Ryou excelled in English and Japanese, but still wondered why Seto could surpass him in both when he had never lived outside the country. Trigonometry was tiresome as usual, History as tedious, and their lunch break arrived before Ryou knew it.  
  
Seto sat with them today, feigning disinterest as he watched Anzu and Jou's duel. Given that neither Anzu nor Jou were even close to elite, in comparison to Seto, Ryou found it interesting that the CEO of Kaibacorp wanted to watch. Perhaps he's finally tired of sitting alone, Ryou thought. I know how that feels.  
  
"My Gemini Elves!" Anzu cried. Seto smirked; an attack of 1900 made no difference when Jou played "Sword and Shield". Gemini Elf's defense was only 900.   
  
Ryou ate his yogurt and granola, paying little attention to its flavor or texture, the duel, or anything else in particular. Something was definitely different today; either there was something missing, or there was something new.  
  
He found out soon enough fifth period -- and there was, indeed, both something missing and something new. The man who stepped into the gym this morning wasn't Goshima-sensei, but a rather gorgeous, Ryou was ashamed to admit, young man not much older than himself. The young teacher's unusual violet eyes and long chestnut braid had caught not only his but the eyes of every girl in class, not to mention those of several other boys.  
  
"Who is he?" he whispered to Jou discreetly. Jou turned and looked at him oddly.  
  
"Daijoubu desu ka? That's our gym teacher. Makamura-sensei."  
  
Our gym teacher? Ryou wondered. "Daijoubu desu. Then where's Goshima-sensei? You know, the teacher we had before."  
  
Jou pressed his hand to Ryou's forehead. "Are you sure you're okay? Makamura-sensei has been our gym teacher for the entire year so far." He glanced up to make sure Makamura-sensei hadn't caught them talking. "By the way... who's Goshima-sensei?"  
  
Ryou was taken aback, but recovered quickly. "Never mind."  
  
"Katsuya-kun? Bakura-kun? Bakura-kun!" Ryou's head snapped up quickly. "Hai, Makamura-sensei."   
  
"You are not to be conversing amongst yourselves while I am speaking," the teacher said kindly. Ryou nodded.  
  
"Hai, wakarimasu. Gomen nasai."  
  
By the time school ended for the day, it was apparent that the gym teacher had literally dropped off the face of the earth. Ryou had come up with only one possible explanation for Goshima-sensei's mysterious disappearance. He remembered a time nearly a year ago, in Duelist Kingdom, when his yami had used the Sennen Ring to clear the memories of Pegasus and his companions. Perhaps this was what had happened. It must have.  
  
But to send a man to the shadow realm, erase the memories of every student and teacher, and then replace all of the lost memory with false memories of someone else required unimaginable energy. Moreover, for Bakura to have known exactly how and why Goshima-sensei had been bothering him, he must have looked through his memory -- something he had promised never to do.  
  
Ryou was seething with anger when he got home. First, Bakura treats him like a... like a slave. Then, he suddenly changes, breaking promises and treating him like a very young, irresponsible child. Who was he, to try to solve all of Ryou's problems for him, as if he couldn't do anything for himself? He slammed the front door, and stomped uncharacteristically up the stairs.  
  
A startling sight greeted Ryou's eyes when he entered his bedroom. Bakura sat on the edge of his bed, facing the mirror, teasing his unruly light hair with a wide-toothed comb. Meeting Bakura's eyes in the mirror, Ryou's breath caught in his throat. Bakura had acheived a just-rolled-out-of-bed look, sexy as hell, and Ryou suddenly found it very difficult to be angry with his yami.  
  
Hearing the hitch in his hikari's breathing, Bakura hid a small smirk and turned to face him. "Yes?" he drawled.  
  
"Where is Goshima-sensei?" Ryou managed to speak after a moment.  
  
Bakura lifted an eyebrow skeptically. "Why, I believe he's found himself a permanent residence in the shadow realm. I presume you like the current arrangements?"  
  
Ryou ignored the question. "You sent him there, didn't you. You pried through my memories."  
  
"I can deny neither," Bakura said simply.  
  
"I thought our memories were our own unless we chose to share them! And I can take care of myself, I don't need your help. These are my problems, not yours. I have to solve them." Ryou took a deep breath and steadied his voice. "Why did you do it? That just proves I'm weak, just like you say I am."  
  
Bakura spoke before he could stop himself. "Why?! Because I care for you, you ungrateful..."  
  
His eyes widened, the words he had just spoken still echoing in his mind. It seemed as if they had just only now reached his ears, and mortified, he found himself speechless. He stood to leave before this conversation resulted in any farther embarrassment on his behalf.  
  
~ glossary ~  
  
-kun - a suffix attached to the names of boys/men of equal or lesser rank than yourself, also commonly used among close male friends.  
hai - yes  
wakarimasu - I understand.  
gomen nasai - I am sorry.  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Goshima's disappearance, just like I promised...  
  
Beware of major fluffiness and lime next chapter... hehe... I've already drawn outlines up to chapter sixteen... Chapter fifteen and sixteen will probably be written in lemon juice... *yummy* So please *review* if you want to see them... because I'd better get some compensation for all the overheating/nosebleeding I'll have to go through to write those...  
  
the countdown starts now.  
  
Countdown: (to the consecutive lemons) 8 chapters   
(seems like a long time, doesn't it, but if I write well enough it'll be here before you know it)  
  
Duo: Why do I get the feeling I'm being sneaked into this fic?  
  
Me: shh!! *whispers* because you are.  
  
Duo: I feel honored. That means I'm your favorite Gundam pilot, right? Am I gonna be in any lemons?  
  
Me:Wrong, and no. Heero's still my favorite, and maybe some other fic.  
  
Seto: *sweatdrops* But I'm still your overall favorite bishie, right?  
  
Me: ^_^; Of course, Seto-chan... *hands him the riding crop, scarves, and cream*  
  
Seto: By the way, why was I sitting with those losers today at lunch?  
  
Me: Because you have a little crush on Jou.  
  
Seto: But I thought I was yours.  
  
Me: Of course, Seto-chan. You're still mine. I only do it to sate the voyeur in me...  
  
Seto: O_o 


	8. VIII

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publicly ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't own YGO, and I don't own the characters. But if I had enough money I could probably buy the rights to Seto. Which I don't.  
  
Wow... I can't believe I'm already writing Chapter VIII... I've been looking forward to this chapter for a while; I planned it out while I was writing Chapter II. ^_^;  
  
Thanks for the reviews!!!  
  
No Name [ff.net] - hehe Duo wasn't exactly *in* this fic... I just created a character who physically looked like him as the result of one of my moods... I have no idea where that came from... As for the other pilots, they won't be appearing either, but there may be characters in future chapters who resemble them.  
  
Chapter 8  
Koi no Hakujou  
  
koi no hakujou - confession of love; love's confession  
  
Ryou reached out to touch Bakura's arm as he stood. "You do?" he said uncertainly.  
  
Bakura sank back into the mattress, lowering his eyes. "I... I love you." He closed his eyes, not wanting to see Ryou's reaction.  
  
Ryou's mind whirled, not quite believing what he'd just heard. His yami loved him? It seemed to make no sense and make perfect sense at the same time. He remembered what had happened just you nights ago. "Why do you care? You hate me," he'd said. He hadn't expected a response, only perhaps a sharp slap for his impertinence, but his yami's reply had disconcerted him. "Do I?"  
  
"God knows I love you too..." he murmured.  
  
Remembering other events of that same night, he looked guiltily down at the newly healed scars on his wrist. If Bakura had truly loved him, how much it must have hurt him to see those slashes!  
  
He found himself looking down into Bakura's astonished eyes, his yami's hands folded around his own. Bakura's fingers traced the scars on his wrists, registering the guilt Ryou had felt.   
  
"Please... Forget that. It's all right now, it's over. Things will only get better from now on." He slid an arm around Ryou's waist and pulled him down to sit beside him.  
  
Ryou looked up at him with wide chocolate brown eyes. "You promise?"  
  
"I do," Bakura said without hesitation. The way Ryou's eyes lit up with genuine happiness made him feel happier than he had in years. His hand moved up Ryou's back, his fingers tangling in the boy's silky white hair, and Ryou's arms went instinctively around his neck. Bakura allowed himself to search Ryou's eyes for a moment before pressed his lips to Ryou's in a firm but gentle kiss.  
  
When he pulled away, Ryou's eyes were downcast. Bakura lifted his chin with a finger. "Look at me, Ryou." Ryou looked up, and Bakura was startled by the intense emotion he saw in the other's eyes. "I love you, Ryou." It felt natural to say it, as if he'd been rehearsing for this moment for his entire life and the performance had gone off perfectly.  
  
Ryou buried his face in Bakura's shoulder. "I love you too," he whispered in Bakura's ear, as if it would break the spell were he to say it aloud.   
  
Bakura had waited for so long to hear those words, but now he wanted to make sure. "Ryou. The other night... who were you dreaming about?"  
  
Ryou felt heat rise to his cheeks and ears. "You."  
  
"From what I saw, it seemed to be quite a pleasant dream indeed." Bakura smirked, watching the color paint his hikari's cheeks again. It was by then painfully obvious what the dream had been about.   
  
"And just what did you see?" Ryou asked boldly.  
  
"Ah... this and that... none of the dream itself, of course, I wouldn't do that... But I did get a chance to wash your sheets while you were at school that day."  
  
The blush that ran right across the bridge of Ryou's nose then left Bakura at a loss for words. Ra... he's beyond beautiful, Bakura thought to himself.  
  
"Er, thanks..." he replied, feeling ridiculous.  
  
"No need to thank me, Ryou. The pleasure was mine." Bakura didn't even try to stop the smirk that crossed his lips this time. He kissed Ryou chastely, then deepened it, his senses awakening to the sound from Ryou's throat as he plundered his mouth.  
  
He broke away for air, then kissed a hot trail along Ryou's collarbone, ending at his neck. "I'll have to teach you to control those blushes... You have no idea what they do to me," he whispered. Ryou gasped softly at his yami's words.  
  
The doorbell rang downstairs. Muttering a string of Egyptian curses, Bakura disentangled himself from Ryou. "I'll be right back," he told him.  
  
"Who is it, dammit?!" he called as he reached the bottom. He threw open the door and was taken aback. The figure who stood in the doorway was nothing less than a ghost from his past. The sun-bleached hair, tanned skin, and exotic violet eyes were the last things he wanted to see right now.  
  
"Greetings and salutations, Bakura. I've found you, at long last," he drawled.  
  
"What do you want, Malik?" he asked tersely. He considered slamming the door in his ex-lover's face, but felt that he should at least listen to what he had to say. I seemed like Ryou was rubbing off on him.  
  
"What do I want? Bakura, you make me laugh... You know well exactly what I want," Malik said, chortling madly.  
  
"You want my Sennen Ring. Hn. You can't have it." He was done with this fool. Heh... he's tried all these years to collect the Items, and failed every time, and now he's trying again?  
  
"Foolish boy. I don't want the Ring." Malik paused, caressing the eye of his Sennen Rod. "I want you." He slammed the door hard and pinned Bakura against it. "And this time, I'll get what I want." Angling Bakura's mouth, he punished him with his lips and tongue.  
  
I don't want this! Bakura screamed mentally, but his body betrayed him. He returned the kiss, pressing his hips to Malik's.  
  
Ryou sat at the edge of his bed, still breathless from Bakura's kiss. The door downstairs slammed, and a heavy thud against one of the walls caused his bedroom window to rattle in its frame. Ryou decided to take a look downstairs to make sure his yami was alright; after all, it had been a while since he left.  
  
He slipped wraithlike halfway down the stairs, hoping neither Bakura nor whoever it was at the door wouldn't notice him. Looking through the bars of the banister, Ryou gasped, his heart sickeningly plunging. It was Marik Ishtar's yami, and he had Bakura up against the wall, kissing him... and Bakura... Bakura was kissing him back. Ryou sat down heavily in despair.  
  
Bakura freed himself from Malik and turned toward the creak of the stairs. Ryou sat there, his face in his cupped hands. He must have seen.  
  
Ryou felt someone's eyes on him and looked up.   
  
Author's Note:  
  
Gomen! Gomen! Well this just shows how quickly my fluffball can turn angst. ::sigh:: But expect ups and downs in life and in fanfiction... and what goes up must come down (except in "and they lived happily ever after" type stories) and what goes down must come up (No pun intended.) So things will be nice and fluffy again starting chapter 13. *but* not unless you review!  
  
Fic's Statistics:  
[2] reviews average per chapter  
[7] more chapters before lemon 


	9. IV

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai, Malik and Marik OOC-ness. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publicly ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't own YGO, but I own this fic. So no plagiarizing.  
  
Guess[ff.net] - Maybe you should reread Chapter 8. Carefully.  
  
the Shadow Girl[mm.org] - Well, you see, it wasn't *really* Bakura's fault.  
  
Yami's Girl710[mm.org] - Other pairings? Er... well I don't really know at this point... I've pretty much planned out the storyline for the entire fic, so... I guess there might be other pairings if I can fit them in somewhere...  
  
treranhan[ff.net] - Excuse me? Tone down the angst? LOL  
  
nieni Woodland[ff.net] - Apparently not.  
  
Chapter 9  
Kanchigai  
  
kanchigai - wrong guess, misunderstanding  
  
Ryou met his yami's eyes wordlessly. "How could you do this to me?" he said hoarsely. "I thought you loved me... or at least you said you did."  
  
"Oh... waga hikari... Gomen nasai! I can explain. Just give me a moment and listen to me. You see, I didn't know..."  
  
Ryou cut him off. "Why should I listen? You'd only waste my time, telling me lies as always. You said things would get better, but I can only see things getting worse. I was a fool to trust you all this time.  
  
"You give your love falsely! You don't think before you speak. You bend people to your will, you toy with their emotions. You don't care at all." Somewhere in the back of Ryou's mind, the thought occured that this melodramatic drivel sounded ridiculous, but at the moment he didn't care.  
  
"Gomen nasai!" he mocked Bakura. "I'm so sorry for interrupting your nice little make-out session." Ryou smiled sweetly at Malik, though his eyes were still hard and cold as hail. "I'm leaving, just like you probably wanted. Oh, don't ask, the answer is yes; you can use my room if you like, I don't care." He turned to Bakura. "By the way, don't bother changing the sheets, either, because I might as well do it since everyone uses me anyway!"  
  
Ryou took one last glance at the stunned expressions on Bakura and Malik's faces, then yanked open the door and slammed it behind him.  
  
An uncomfortable silence descended over the house after Ryou left. Neither Bakura nor Malik were completely sure what to make of Ryou's abscondence. Malik turned away, guiltily avoiding Bakura's eyes.  
  
Bakura studied Malik closely. If only they were in a different time and place, Malik would have been perfect for him. The sexy Egyptian was a spirit within a Sennen Item, and they would have been able to spend all of eternity together.   
  
But as it were, he could not. He loved Ryou more than anything, and if he were given the choice, he knew that he would rather spend a short mortal lifetime with Ryou than eternity with Malik. It was odd, the way things happened. You never knew how much you loved someone until they were falling out of reach, and even if you knew that, you wouldn't take it seriously until it actually happened.  
  
"Er... Gomen..." Malik said awkwardly. That was an incredibly stupid thing to say, he thought. He felt as if he should be apologizing profusely, begging for forgiveness, but all he had to say was "Gomen."?  
  
"You love him, don't you?" Another stupid thing to say. Malik was beginning to feel more ridiculous by the minute. Bakura didn't respond, but instead stared intently at the disappearing figure at the corner of the block through the window.  
  
Malik swallowed. "Bakura? If this helps any, I don't love you."  
  
"Is that so," Bakura said through gritted teeth. It wasn't a question. "Then why don't you go tell Ryou. I'm sure he'd like to hear that."  
  
The other ignored his comment. "I love my hikari."  
  
Bakura blinked. "I find it hard to believe that you could love." He took his eyes off the corner where Ryou had long since disappeared.  
  
"I didn't think so either. But Marik is different... there's no one like him. He's... damn..." Malik trailed off. Bakura lifted an eyebrow.   
  
"Er... I think I'd better leave now..." Malik said embarrassedly. Bakura nodded, and opened the door for him. Malik left without a farewell.  
  
¤¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤¤  
  
Ryou sat on a creaky wooden bench in the park, under a sakura tree that was losing its leaves a little later than it should. In a few months, the trees would bloom, and every family in Domino would set up territories under the trees and celebrate for the entire day. But now, the limbs were stark and bleak, the skies steel-gray, and frost had hardened the ground beneath his feet.  
  
He wondered where he should go. Obviously, he couldn't go back home, and now, when he thought about it, he really didn't have any true friends that he could count on to let him stay. Of course there were always the people he talked with, sat with at lunch, laughed and joked with, but did that make them friends?  
  
But there was always Yugi. Whenever anyone needed help, Yugi was always there to go out of his way to do so. Ryou didn't really consider Yugi a friend, precisely; he'd never been able to confide in the boy and Bakura did not tolerate his yami well.   
  
Sugoroku Mutou's Game Shop was just around the corner, and the bright, child-appealing colors of the building contrasted distinctively with Ryou's disposition. Ryou trudged down the sidewalk toward it anyway, there being nowhere else for him to go.  
  
As he entered the shop, a small bell rang overhead. "Welcome to Grandpa's Game Shop! We carry the finest in duel..." Yugi stopped his recitation abruptly. "Oh, hi, Ryou. Grandpa's out grocery shopping, and he let me run the store for a few hours! Isn't that exciting?"  
  
"Sure is," Ryou replied with a small smile. "Hey... I was wondering if I could stay with you for a few days... The plumbing at my house is backed up, and I can't use the water or anything. I've already called the plumber, he's coming by tomorrow."  
  
Yugi's eyes lit up. "Oh, wonderful! That is, that you're staying; I love having guests. Not that your plumbing's backed up."  
  
Ryou laughed a little. He felt awful about lying to Yugi; he was so innocent. "Yes, I know."  
  
Yugi's brows knitted for a moment. "Oh, I forgot... Someone's already using the guest room. I guess you'll have to take the couch," he said ruefully.  
  
"Oh, that's fine." Ryou followed Yugi through a door in the rear of the store into the Mutou home. Yugi scurried upstairs, his short legs a blur, and returned shortly with an overstuffed pillow and a set of sheets and blankets, which he deposited on the back of a sofa.  
  
"Hi, Ryou! Hi, Yugi." Ryou turned to find the source of the voice -- Marik Ishtar stood in the doorway of the guest bedroom. Ryou froze instantly. Through no fault of his own, Marik reminded him of Malik and consequently Bakura.   
  
"Hi, Marik," he said coldly. Yugi didn't notice his tone of voice but Marik did. He threw Ryou a questioning look and disappeared back into his room.  
  
~glossary~  
  
waga - my  
  
Author's Note:  
  
This chapter didn't turn out quite like I wanted it to... It looked so much longer when I was outlining ^_^;   
Hey, did you know that this is already the 59th most viewed romance, R-NC17, Yu-Gi-Oh! fic on Mediaminer? lol... I bet my views will *skyrocket* once I switch the fic to NC-17, knowing people in general. hehe...  
  
Seto: Seriously, how could you do that to them? You're evil.  
  
Me: Hn. You'll see that I'm doing them a favor. Someday you'll understand.  
  
Fic's Statistics:  
[2.75] reviews average per chapter //--improvement--//  
[6] more chapters to lemon //--another improvement--// 


	10. X

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publicly ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't own YGO, and neither does that girl who owns the Yu-Gi-Aholic clique who forced me to say that Seto was "hers". LOL... Who does she think she is? Seto-chan is mine.  
  
Seto: Hn.   
  
Chapter 10  
Keiji  
  
keiji - a revelation  
  
When Yugi left the room, Ryou found himself alone in the living room with the blankets and pillow. It was too early to start setting up his makeshift bed, so he sank into the sofa cushions and turned on the television.  
  
Ryou wasn't really interested in the news report; the anchors' impossible preppiness only made things seem more dismal than they already were, if that was possible. He fingered his Sennen ring, and it stayed heavy and cold in his hand, as if lifeless.   
  
After a moment, Marik emerged from his room and sat beside him. Ryou edged away a little, his fingers busily picking at the seams of the cushions.  
  
"He's at your house, isn't he?"  
  
Ryou froze. He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding, and nodded.   
  
Marik sighed heavily, letting his head rest on his hands. "They used to be lovers in Egypt, did you know that? But after Battle City, well, I thought it was over between them. Shouldn't have been surprised."  
  
Ryou recognized the implications. He chose his words carefully. "I didn't know. You ...like him? Malik, I mean." He blushed, realizing what a personal question he'd asked.  
  
Marik snorted. "Like him? Do you 'like' Bakura?"   
  
Ryou stared incredulously. Marik loved his yami? Was that possible? He tried to imagine Marik being in love, but he couldn't do it. But Marik didn't lie; he might keep secrets and behave insanely, but he didn't lie. For a moment, Ryou envied the other boy; unrequited love seemed so much less painful than what he was experiencing now.  
  
He sighed. "How pathetic is this. Both of us, sitting at Yugi's house with nowhere else to go, mooning over our yamis who only have eyes for each other." Marik agreed.   
  
Just then, Sugoroku Mutou entered the living room, burdened with three bulging paper bags that he could barely see over. "Oh, hi there, Ryou, Marik. Could you give me a hand with these bags?"  
  
"Konban wa, Ojiisan. Hai, douzo." Ryou and Marik each took a bag, carried it into the kitchen, and began to unload them. Yugi's grandfather chased after escapee fruit, and returned winded when he had found them.  
  
"So, what brings you here?" he asked candidly. Marik stepped on Ryou's heel.  
  
"He came to help me with my English homework," Marik answered before he had a chance to speak. "I'm having trouble with the grammar. Everything's backwards!"  
  
Yugi's grandfather chuckled. "Well, good luck, Marik! If you boys need me, I'll be down the hall. Yugi and I had an early supper, you can help yourself to whatever's in the fridge if you're hungry."  
  
Ryou heated up some instant ramen for himself and returned to the sofa. Marik had gone back to his room and shut the door, and Ryou sat alone on the cushions, sipping his soup and listening to the clock on the fireplace mantel tick. It was already dark outside; the days were getting shorter. The wind screamed its fury outside, moaning and rattling the windows like a restless ghost. Ryou shivered; it was good to be inside on a night like this, even if he was not in his own home.  
  
He wondered how long he would stay here. Just tonight perhaps? A few more days? He hadn't brought anything with him except the clothes on his back, but perhaps between Yugi and Marik, he would be able to get by with any schoolwork he otherwise couldn't do.  
  
Ryou finished his noodles and disposed of his styrofoam bowl. Picking up Yugi's copy of "The Red Pony" by John Steinbeck and read the required pages; it was easy, since English had been his first language.  
  
He propped up the pillow on the armrest and covered himself with the blankets. If he slept early tonight, he could get to school early tomorrow morning and finish the rest of the assignments in the school library.  
  
Ryou sank into the pillow and evened his breathing. Closing his eyes, he listened to the mantelpiece clock tick and allowed his thoughts to drift.  
  
Sleep didn't come easily. After about half an hour, he found himself tossing and turning, rearranging his blankets several times, checking the clock to see how much time had passed. 8:42. What was Bakura doing now? Was he with Malik? Ryou listened to the beat of his heart, and thought it sounded faster than usual.  
  
Ryou wondered what Malik was doing to Bakura now. He wondered what Bakura was doing to Malik. 9:14. Was Malik a good kisser? Was Malik a better kisser than himself? Probably. They were lovers five millenia ago, after all.  
  
What did Bakura like in bed? Ryou wished he knew. Malik would know. And Bakura would know what Malik would like. 9:40. Did Bakura like to take or be taken? Did he like both? 9:56.  
  
It was impossible to fall asleep. Ryou tried to force the thoughts from his mind, but they always seemed to force their way in somehow. In his tossing and turning, his blankets slipped to the floor and Ryou curled up, shivering. 10:21. A light switched on upstairs; Ryou heard Yugi's feet pat across the hall, heard water running and footsteps back, and saw the light turn off again. 10:31.  
  
He picked up his rapidly cooling blankets and crawled back into them. Taking his dueling deck from his pocket, his fingered the cards, knowing each one by its worn corners and edges. This one was his Man-Eating Bug. This one was a Morphing Jar. This one Nemuriko, Reaper of the Cards, Dark Elf. Change of Heart, Spirit of the Harp, Black Pendant. 10:54.  
  
A soft moan came from Marik's room, then a few heated gasps, a few sighs, through the closed door. Marik was... Ryou smiled wryly at what Marik was doing. He slipped his deck back into his pocket and listened until the sounds faded. Ryou felt oddly comforted in that he and Marik were in similar situations. 11:17.  
  
Ryou heard someone walking down the stairs; he heard the light creak of loose boards and the faint rustle of suede boots on carpet. He sat up and looked over the back of the sofa. Yugi's yami met his eyes, gave him a small half-smile and sat down beside him.  
  
"Ousama?" Ryou queried softly.  
  
~ glossary ~  
  
douzo - it has a very vague meaning... i don't really know how to explain...  
example:   
Seito (student): Kono enpitsu kezuri wo karite mo ii desu ka? (May I please borrow this pencil sharpener?)  
Sensei: Hai, douzo.  
or  
Seito1: Sumimasen, sono kami wo kudasai. (Excuse me, please give me that paper.)  
Seito2: Hai, douzo.  
ousama - king  
Author's Note:  
  
If you're wondering why it's so late at night, it's the school system in most of Asia. In high school, school lets out around 5 or 6 at night. *shudder* 


	11. XI

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai, miniature cliffie. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publicly ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't own YGO, or any of the characters, not even Seto. Seto's too expensive to buy; he's worth more than Joe Millionaire, supposedly... but I know he'd give himself to me for free if he could.  
  
[42] reviews? O_o   
  
ryoubakurafan[mm.org] - yup... I'm making you wait till chapter fifteen. But look at it this way. I started the countdown at chapter 7, and look... we're already at chapter 11. Halfway there! By the way... what've *you* been smoking?! I lay no claim to Ryou, or Jou, but Seto's mine! ...and this is why: you called him a bishie, or bishounen. He's not. He's a biseinen. And he's *my* biseinen.  
  
Also, the idea is *not* overdone... it may be *similar* to some other storyline, but I took the main conflict from the Greek classics, specifically, the myth of Eos (the goddess of dawn) who was in love with the mortal prince Tithonus. I doubt any other fic authors did this.  
  
Seto & I: *stare down disdainfully at whoever dares to insult their intelligence*  
  
Chapter 11  
Mikomi no Koushin  
  
mikomi no koushin - renewal of hope  
  
He chuckled softly at the title. "Please, do call me Yami."  
  
Ryou felt odd calling Yugi's yami by the same title by which he addressed his own yami. He nodded.  
  
"Ryou," Yami began, pausing as if searching for the right word, "tell me what happened. Your link to Bakura is weak; I can sense it."   
  
Ryou gritted his teeth, raising his defenses. "Nothing happened!" Yami said nothing.  
  
Ryou looked through long lashes into Yami's eyes and saw that he was sincere. Yami truly cared for each and every one of Yugi's friends, and the concern showed through in his expression. Ryou knew that he could trust Yami.  
  
"I love Bakura," he began, his cheeks reddening. He twirled a lock of pale hair in his fingers nervously until his voice cracked.  
  
Yami gave him a small smile. "Any fool can see that. He loves you too, you know; he's only afraid to admit it."  
  
Ryou brightened a bit. "He told me so; that he loved me." At this, he felt his ears warming. "But he truly doesn't, I know. He loves Malik, doesn't he? Tell me the truth; I don't want a lie to make me feel better."  
  
Yami sighed. "They were lovers in the past, as you must have heard. Bed-partners, really; I don't believe either of them had feelings for the other apart from lust. I don't remember all that had passed at the time, but you may be assured that Bakura and Malik were not in love at the time and are likely not in love now. He loves you."  
  
Ryou stiffened. "Then he is still in... lust... with Malik?"  
  
Yami looked at him oddly. "Tell me what happened, Ryou," he repeated.  
  
Ryou swallowed, and began at the beginning. "I guess everything started when Father got me the Sennen Ring when he returned from a dig in Egypt..."   
  
He poured out everything that had happened, his voice catching at some points, becoming choked at others, and finally collapsing bonelessly on Yami's shoulder, sobbing. "And now I'm here... and you, and Yugi, and Ojiisan, and Malik have all been so good to me..." he finished, trailing off. Silence filled the room save the sound of Ryou's sniffles and choked breathing, and Yami's black shirt was drenched.  
  
Yami threaded his fingers through Ryou's hair, stroking it lightly to calm the boy. He wanted the tears to stop but knew that he shouldn't; Ryou could only heal after he had had a long cry.   
  
When Ryou's sobs reduced to hiccups and finally disappeared, he still clung to Yami's damp shirt. The tears stung his eyes and cheeks, but he could not bear to look into Yami's eyes.   
  
"It's alright now, isn't it?" Ryou looked up at Yami, not meeting his eyes but staring fixedly at his full lips. "Just remember that Bakura loves you," Yami continued, "and that he would never lie to you." Ryou nodded.  
  
Yami smiled. "Why don't you stay here for a couple of days or so, and I'll take you home myself when you feel you're ready to." It wasn't a question. Ryou nodded, unsure of whether he could speak if he tried.  
  
Ryou wished his yami was a little more like Yugi's. He wished Bakura could be a little more understanding, and a little more patient. Talks like this one had never come easily for them; it fact, he and Bakura had never before had a long, intimate conversation as he had just had with Yami.  
  
But Yami was like a romance novel, sweet but inconclusive, like a warm bubble bath. It wasn't he truly wanted or needed -- Bakura's all-encompassing fire, like strong liquor. He wanted it hardcore. He wanted the fire to be blistering, scorching, and the ice frigid as liquid nitrogen. Yami could offer him neither.  
  
He caught Yami's eyes and watched reflected moonlight glint on his crimson orbs. The dark spirit was still smiling that ever-present half-smile that lingered in his eyes even when his lips did not curve. Ryou suddenly felt at home, as if all of his worries and burdens were lifted for one split second. It felt like Yami had somehow solved all of his problems without leaving his seat, though deep down Ryou knew it wasn't true.  
  
Ryou extended a finger and took in his fingers a lock of Yami's blond hair that stayed in that impossible position. He had had a whimsical notion to compare in to Yugi's hair and Bakura's. Whose was it more like?  
  
It was more like his own, he decided. Not quite like Yugi's fragile downy locks, and not quite like Bakura's coarse but silky strands. He hand moved naturally from the lock of hair to cup the back of Yami's head.  
  
Threading his fingers through his hair as Yami had done with him, he drew him down, as if in slow motion. Neither made a sound as he pressed his lips to Yami's and clung to him helplessly as they shared a chaste kiss.  
  
When Yami drew away, Ryou looked at Yami with horrified eyes. What had he done? He was almost as bad... no, he was as bad as Malik! Ryou began to babble profuse apologies, and Yami interrupted him.  
  
"It's alright, Ryou, it is. You couldn't help it. Just don't let it happen again." Ryou nodded, but he could see in Yami's small smirk that Yugi's yami had liked their kiss as well. He supposed that this one accident might even things out between Bakura and himself.  
  
Picking up the blankets that had fallen to the floor again, Yami straightened them and covered Ryou, tucking in the edges under Ryou's weight. Ryou shivered for a moment from the icy sheets but soon murmured in contentment as they warmed.  
  
Yami took off the tear-drenched tank top and laid it neatly over the back of the couch. He slipped in behind Ryou, his arm securely around Ryou's waist. His bare chest to Ryou's back, Ryou appreciated the warmth and could feel Yami's heart steadily beat at his shoulder blades. Ryou listened once again to the ticking of the mantelpiece clock and to Yami's even breathing. This time, he fell asleep easily.  
  
Author's Note:  
  
heh heh... I know that mini-lime was uncalled for, but personally, I believe it compliments nicely the overall flavor of the fic, if you know what I mean. A secret ingredient, of course, is essential. But you won't know what it is until you taste it... in chapter thirteen, that is, two more chapters.  
  
Fic's Statistics:  
[4] more chapters to double lemon  
[3.82] reviews average per chapter 


	12. XII

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai, an unanticipated accident, slight humor. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publicly ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't own YGO. *blink* *blink* WHAT ARE *YOU* STARING AT?!  
  
ryoubakurafan[mm.org] / Seto/Jou fan[ff.net] - Must you always have the last word? ^^; Sure, you and your bishies can have your fun together alone. I suppose your CAPS imply that "ALONE" means "without me". ;) Of course why otherwise you would want anyone else to watch / have fun with you and your bishies is beyond me. :)  
  
ATTENTION... anyone have a website? Please visit my new clique! ^_^ (If you used wysiwyg -- What You See Is What You Get, that is, Frontpage/Pagebuilder/Expage, don't even bother. I'm looking for *real* html talent.)  
  
Chapter 12  
Taku ni Kitte Imasu  
  
taku ni kitte imasu - coming home  
  
When Ryou woke up, gray light filtered through the curtains. He felt as if something were missing, and found that Yami was not with him. It was still warm where Yami had slept, and Ryou knew that Yami must have gone only when he noticed him awakening.  
  
He stretched his limbs, shivering as his bare arms came into contact with the chill air. Huddling under his blankets, he closed his eyes again. It was so warm, and soft, and the six hours of sleep he'd gotten last night really wasn't enough. Ryou yawned and tried to ignore the sounds of the Mutou household beginning to awaken.  
  
When small feet scurried up and down the stairs and Marik's creaky door swung slowly open, Ryou sighed and threw off the blankets. He made his way sleepily to the powder room and groaned when he saw his reflection in the full length mirror behind the door. Ryou's hair stuck up at odd angles, as if someone had attacked it with a blow dryer. He had slept with his clothes on, and his tossing and turning had left this shirt and pants looking like they had been wrung. He couldn't possibly go to school like this.  
  
Finding a hair brush in one of the drawers, Ryou teased his hair back into some semblance of normalcy. Although he might not have time to iron all of his clothes, he might be able to get his pants done and wear his blue school uniform jacket over the wrinkled shirt.  
  
Ryou found Yugi's grandfather in the kitchen, sliding waffles into the toaster. "Aa, Ojiisan! Ohayou gozaimasu."   
  
"Ohayou, Ryou-kun."  
  
Ryou looked down at himself sheepishly. "Er... may I borrow the ironing board?"   
  
"Sure, it's in the hall closet," Yugi's grandfather said absentmindedly. Ryou nodded and found the ironing board and iron where it should have been. Carrying the unwieldy objects, he nearly ran Yugi over as he turned to close the door of the hall closet.  
  
"Ohayou, Ryou-kun! Genki desu ka?" Yugi was nearly overflowing with energy.   
  
"Ohayou," Ryou said, smiling tiredly. "Maamaa desu." Yugi pursed his lips when he noticed the wrinkled clothing.   
  
"Oops. You should have asked me for spare pjs."  
  
"It's okay, this shouldn't take long," Ryou said.  
  
"No, really! I would lend you a spare uniform, but I'm afraid mine would be too small. Maybe Marik could lend you something." Just then, Marik appeared at his doorway, wearing a freshly ironed black cloak emblazoned with a Sennen insignia. Ryou eyed Marik's attire skeptically.  
  
Yugi sighed. "Um, never mind then... maybe Yami has something you can wear... even thought I've never quite figured out where he got that blue Domino High uniform he used to wear."  
  
As Ryou followed Yugi up the stairs to his and Yami's room, Ryou saw Yami leaning against the doorframe and their eyes met for an instant longer than they should have. Ryou lifted his chin in acknowledgement, and Yami's eyes shone for an instant with a kind smile.  
  
"Hi, Yami. Do you have anything Ryou could wear? He didn't bring a change of clothes."   
  
Yami nodded. "I'll see if I can find any." Ryou watched with a tiny twinge of jealousy as Yami slipped his arm around Yugi possessively.   
  
Yami emerged from the walk-in closet with an armload of clothing, Yugi trailing behind with sweat beading at his forehead and a fevered blush. "Um... I think I'll... leave for now," Yugi stuttered, and made a mad dash for the stairs.  
  
Ryou lifted an eyebrow at Yami. With a smirk, Yami revealed a shoebox under the stack of clothing and opened it to reveal stacks of single-use packets of raspberry flavored lubricant. Ryou choked.  
  
"I guess Yugi found my secret stash," Yami said guiltily. "I should have found a better place to hide things like this than in a shoebox on a closet shelf." Ryou felt the urge to giggle uncontrollably.  
  
Turning back to the clothes, Yami selected a pair of black leather pants and handed them to Ryou. "Here, why don't you try these on?" Ryou held them gingerly in his fingers, blushing. He stepped out of his wrinkled pair and into the leathers, but found that his boxers posed a small problem. The leather pants were pliable and thin, but fitted to his legs like a second skin to where it was cut straight down from the knee.  
  
Yami smirked. "They've gotta go. It's alright, I don't wear anything under mine either. No one can tell." When Ryou started to turn an alarming shade of red, Yami added, "but I'll turn my head if you wish." Ryou breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
After putting on the pants, Yami handed him a white shirt of Egyptian linen so fine it was nearly chiffon. Feeling adventurous, Ryou slipped it on and left it completely unbuttoned, showing a narrow strip of exposed skin from his neck to a bit below his navel.  
  
To complete the effect, Yami lined Ryou's eyes with kohl and added a chain necklace. He guided Ryou to a mirror, smiling with self-satisfied approval. A look of shock crossed Ryou's face, but after a moment, Ryou drawled, "I like it."   
  
Ryou reluctantly put on the blue Domino High jacket; it ruined the effect. Staring at his reflection, he couldn't believe he was actually going to school like this. He almost wished he'd just worn the wrinkled clothes. The principal would send him home for sure.   
  
When he stepped into the kitchen, Yugi nearly spit out his mouthful of syrup-drenched waffle. Marik gave him a slow, mischievous smile. "For Bakura?" he mouthed. Ryou scowled at him.  
  
¤¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤¤  
  
Ryou walked to Yugi's house alone. He'd been right; the outfit would get him sent home, just not the fashion he'd thought at first.  
  
It was during his fifth period class, gym, that he had found changing into his gym clothes impossible. The leather pants were impossible to take off, and he had had to go to Makamura-sensei to ask for help. It must have been the most embarrassing thing he'd ever done -- asking a teacher for help taking off his pants, which, coincidentally, he wore nothing under. He shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if Goshima-sensei were still there.   
  
Makamura-sensei had looked him up and down, nodding appreciatively. He'd understood the problem, and instead of helping Ryou change into the gym clothes, he'd simply written Ryou a pass and sent him home, promising not to mark him absent.  
  
When he finished what homework he had, it was already dark. Yugi had gone up to his room, and Marik seemed to have been walking back and forth between the kitchen and the guest room carrying a number of different food items. Ryou closed his eyes and dozed off.  
  
¤¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤¤  
  
Ryou snapped out of his half-sleep and remembered abruptly that he needed to ask Yugi what he had missed, since he had left school early. Upstairs, Yugi's door was left carelessly ajar, and it was silent save the sounds of something creaking and hitting the walls in rhythmic thumps.   
  
"Yugi?" Ryou called. When he heard no reply, he pushed the door open a few more inches.  
  
From that point forward, Ryou could not see Yugi as the innocent child that came to others' minds. Both yami and hikari were in a state of half undress, as if it was done in the secrecy and haste of forbidden lovers. Yugi's flushed skin and shallow breaths revealed what had occurred.  
  
"Aishiteru! Aishiteru..." Yugi murmured. Ryou had a sudden attack of deja vu. He'd seen this scene before, somewhere, and suddenly remembered. Taking the light and dark that lay there in post-coital bliss, he replaced the figures with that of Bakura and himself, and saw a scene of a dream he had once had. It seemed so long ago.  
  
Ryou shut the door as quietly as he could. This, more than anything else, made him begin to believe that he was overstaying his welcome.  
  
¤¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤--¤¤  
  
After a hearty dinner, there came a knock at the Mutou's door. Marik rose from his seat, excusing himself, and returned to his room as Yugi's grandfather answered the door.  
  
Malik stood in the doorway with a rare smile, something that looked almost genuine and untainted by madness. "Marik?" he called, looking past Yugi's grandfather to where he knew Marik was. "Marik? It's time to go home." He looked down at the elderly storekeeper before him. "Ojiisan, konban wa. Is Ryou here?"  
  
Yugi's grandfather nodded and gestured to Ryou to come over. Ryou stood beside him and looked up coldly at Malik. Malik dismissed the glare. "Ryou, nothing happened. I left right after you did. Come on, let's take you home. Bakura's waiting for you."  
  
Still harboring ill feelings toward the Egyptian, Ryou was about to refuse when Yami placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Malik, I'll take him home." To Ryou, he said in a low voice, "Go get your clothes. We're leaving now."  
  
Gathering the clothes, now neatly folded, he said goodbye to Yugi and his grandfather and left with Yami.  
  
As they walked down the block toward Ryou's house, Ryou wondered whether Yami had known he had walked in on him. Under the orange streetlight, Yami's hair still seemed a bit disheveled from the tumble in the sheets. Yami looked straight into Ryou's eyes and seeing the uncertainty there, embraced him tightly against his better judgement.  
  
Wordlessly, they reached Ryou's doorstep. With trembling fingers, Ryou rang his own doorbell, and the front door swung open instantly as if Bakura had been waiting on the other side.   
  
Seeing Bakura for the first time in two days made Ryou realize how much he had missed him in such a short period of time. Bakura leered his approval at Ryou's attire and held his arms out. Ryou looked back to Yami for reassurance, but Yami had disappeared. Uncertainly, he walked up the steps and fell into Bakura's arms.  
  
At long last, he removed himself from Bakura's arms and took his yami's hand, tugging him inside. Bakura refused to move. Frustrated, Ryou whispered, "I'll be upstairs."  
  
When Ryou left, Bakura stood at his doorstep, the wind whipping his unruly hair. "Pharaoh," he said calmly. "Where are you? I know you're here." Yami stepped out from the shadows, meeting Bakura's eyes to share a silent understanding. "Thank you," Bakura said after a moment.  
  
Yami only nodded and turned away, knowing how hard it was for Bakura to say.  
  
~ glossary ~  
  
genki desu ka? - "how are you?" or literally, "are you healthy?"  
maamaa desu - "I'm so-so" or "I'm okay."  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Ironing board wa nihongo de nan to imasu ka? Shirimasen!  
^_^; Ryou and Bakura reunited! YAY!!! *does a little dance* Long chapter!  
  
Warning: Next chapter contains major CITRUS. *drumroll* I didn't know whether to classify it as lemon or lime; it's a bit of both. You're advised to have a box of tissue nearby in case of accidental nosebleeds...  
  
Ryou: Why do I feel like I'm a plaything of your imagination?  
Me: Because you are.  
Ryou: O_o... er, hehe... please... uh... review?  
  
Fic's Statistics:  
[3] more chapters to lemon! ^_^ 


	13. XIII

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai, flavor of Sprite. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publicly ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't own YGO, but after reading this chapter, you'll probably wish I did...  
  
Sheenagami [mm.org] - Malik's the yami, Marik's the hikari. As I mentioned earlier, Marik and Malik sound exactly the same in Japanese, so it doesn't really matter which I name once character or the other. Secondly, I didn't really want to make any more confusion by inserting another "Yami-Hikari" relationship because it's confusing enough. And you're probably right; most people do think I'm really smart and I don't like it when people get better marks than I do; I'm also really arrogant.   
  
Note: To anyone who might be confused, Yami is actually Yami Yugi's name, so Ryou calls him Yami, Pharaoh, or the pharaoh. Since Yami is also Bakura's title in relationship to Ryou, Ryou also calls Bakura Yami, the same way we might call someone Prince or Father.   
  
Me: Hmm... I've chilled the glass, rimmed it with salt, added the ice and tequila... I think something's missing from my margarita.  
  
Seto: *whisperwhisper*  
  
Me: *blushes* Oops, I nearly forgot... a squeeze of lemon or lime... *stirs drink*  
Chapter 13  
Yurushi  
  
yurushi - forgiveness  
  
"Did you miss me?" Ryou asked sardonically, staring at the wall rather than looking at Bakura.  
  
Bakura knew that his answer to this question meant much more to Ryou than he let on. His eyes softened as he gazed at the boy whose stubbornness he was so fond of. "Too much," he replied, sitting down next to Ryou on the edge of the bed. "It's good to have you home again."  
  
Ryou looked up, startled; he hadn't expected such a direct answer. He leaned into Bakura's warm embrace, feeling the sparks travel along his spine at his yami's touch and resting his head on his shoulder. Ryou sighed. "It's good to be back. You didn't really think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?"  
  
At this, Bakura knew he had been forgiven. Holding Ryou even closer, he laughed lightly. "No, and I didn't want to." Ryou felt Bakura's warm breath on his cheek, and as he was sure his heart might just suddenly stop, he felt Bakura's lips on his own.   
  
Just a little curious, Ryou opened his eyes and saw Bakura's open eyes smirking back at him. His surprise gave Bakura the chance to slip his tongue past Ryou's lips and tentatively explore his mouth. Ryou's eyes fluttered shut again, the sudden intrusion bringing a red flush to his cheeks.  
  
"I warned you, didn't I?" Bakura breathed. "You know what your blushes do to me."  
  
With a suddenly mischievous look that Bakura didn't recall ever seeing in his hikari, Ryou leaned back sharply, his arms pulling Bakura down with him so that he lay reclined. "What if that's what I want to do to you?"  
  
At this, even Bakura blushed. For how long had he imagined being above Ryou like this? Even beneath him? Ryou had been the object of his lust since they had met, even before he had realized he loved him.  
  
"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" Ryou teased.  
  
Bakura silenced him with a kiss. "No, but I've got yours." He kissed Ryou deeply, nipping Ryou's tongue lightly with his teeth. He didn't expect the faint moan that followed, but he kissed Ryou again to see if he could evoke another moan from him. He did; and this one was louder.   
  
Bakura looked down at Ryou, whose lips were wet and slightly swollen. He fingered the fine linen shirt that Yami had given his hikari, admiring the high thread count and the way it was nearly transparent. Ryou's rose-colored nipples were visible through the thin white cloth, and they pressed against the taut fabric.  
  
"Linen like this... was worth stealing. It was worn only by royalty and the very wealthy," Bakura commented. "It's a shame it'll have to go." He slipped the garment off Ryou's slightly quivering shoulders.  
  
As Bakura concentrated on making the perfect mark on the side of Ryou's neck, Ryou wondered how all of this was possible. Only a month ago what was happening now happened only in his dreams and fantasies. He had thought that was enough, that he really didn't need any more than that, but now he couldn't see how it was possible to stay sane with what he had had.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted from time to time by the electric jolt of Bakura's shirt buttons grazing his sensitized nipples. Bakura knew very well what it was doing to the boy beneath him, and when he stood to admire the small red mark that made Ryou his, he wasn't surprised to see the skin of Ryou's chest flushed faint pink.  
  
Placing his fingertips at Ryou's knees where they bent over the edge of the bed, Bakura traced the inseams of Ryou's leather pants. Ryou's eyes flew open as he felt his yami's fingers reach his upper thighs and moaned helplessly when he saw Bakura's smirk. He squeezed his knees together reflexively, but it was too late; Bakura cupped him in his palm and stroked him through the leather with his thumb.  
  
Bakura heard the hitch in Ryou's already erratic breathing. "Do you know how well the pharaoh's pants fit you?" Ryou's answering shudder told him he did. Now applying more pressure with his thumb, he continued, "You're not wearing anything under these, are you?" Ryou whimpered softly and pressed his hips into Bakura's now retreating hand.  
  
Ryou opened his eyes to see Bakura straddle his hips. From his reclining position, he was given a full view of the bulge at the juncture of his yami's spread legs. His mouth suddenly went dry.  
  
Bakura slowly undid the laces of Ryou's borrowed pants; amazed at how unsteady his fingers were. He leaned down to give Ryou a kiss of reassurance before his hand reached under the leather and found what it sought.  
  
Ryou gasped in pleasure as Bakura's hand closed over his aching cock. Bakura smirked, varying the pressure and speed of his movements. Straddling Ryou's hips, he gave Ryou a perfect view of the bulge at the juncture of his spread legs, then sat down on Ryou's thighs to still the involuntary jerks of Ryou's legs.  
  
He leaned down and covered Ryou's mouth with his own. As Ryou's eye began to glaze, he stopped the movements of his hand.  
  
When Ryou's eyes cleared, he gave Bakura a questioning look. His hand was still wrapped tightly around his cock but had just suddenly stopped. Bakura smirked and kissed him again. "Move," he whispered into his mouth. "Fuck my fist."  
  
Ryou thrusted into the hand, reveling in the sensations that washed over him. "Nn... hentai..." he groaned when Bakura's hand moved to meet his thrusts. As Ryou dug his fingers in the sheets beneath him, Bakura caught one of Ryou's wrists with his free hand and placed Ryou's fingertips at a pebbled nipple.   
  
"I want to see you touch yourself." Ryou moaned at the suggestion, worrying one small nub as Bakura tugged at the other. His gaze fell on his supposedly innocent light, and he was pleased in the way he had become this wanton angel in a matter of minutes.  
  
A faint sheen of sweat had appeared at Ryou's brow, and the sounds of his labored breathing filled the silence. As Ryou began to toss his head from side to side, Bakura crushed his lips to Ryou's in a long, slow kiss that seemed to defy the urgentness of the moment.  
  
The force of his climax drove the breath from his lungs as he moaned against Bakura's lips. Bakura felt the flesh in his fingers pulse and hot come spill over his fingers onto Ryou's bare chest. Bringing his hand to his lips, he licked it clean and savored the rich, salty flavor that was uniquely Ryou's. After cleaning Ryou's skin as well, he kissed Ryou, letting his tongue move over Ryou's so that he might taste himself.  
  
"That was... it was amazing..." Ryou murmured. His eyes fluttered shut, and he curled onto his side, breathing evenly. Bakura lay down beside him, propped up on one elbow to gaze at his sleeping hikari. Ryou moved closer to him for warmth, molding the backs of his knees to the front of his and his leather clad bottom into his lap.  
  
Where it rubbed against his still-hard arousal. Bakura groaned softly. Ryou shivered a little and snuggled even closer. Bakura could not conceive of a way to pull the blankets out from under them to cover Ryou, and the creak of leather against leather made him even harder.   
  
Ryou's movements eventually made the leather pants slide off his hips to reveal the two perfect marble globes of his ass. These, as before, ground into his lap in a way Bakura could have sworn was conscious. He bit his lip; if this went on any longer, he'd probably come in his pants.  
  
He turned and threw a leg lazily over Bakura's hip and settled his head comfortably in the hollow of his neck. Bakura tried to move away, but Ryou's weight kept him where he was. In the minutes that passed, dusk became night and without light, it as nearly impossible to see. Despite this, he felt the laces of his pants suddenly loosen and looking down, saw a glimpse of a smile Ryou was trying to hide.  
  
"Ryou? Ryou, you're not asleep, are you?" he asked softly.   
  
Ryou's grin widened. "I'm not the only one who can pretend to be asleep, you know."  
  
Bakura remembered the time he had caught Ryou in his soul room at night and chuckled. Threading his fingers through Ryou's hair, he bent down to give him a fond, chaste kiss. In his distraction, Ryou reached down and took Bakura's length in his hand. "And it's not as if I'd fall asleep and leave you in this condition."  
  
In the near pitch darkness, Ryou shed the hindersome pants that had gathered at his knees and knelt beside Bakura. Moving his hand to the base of his yami's cock, he blew lightly over the tip of the shaft. Muscles visibly tensed as Bakura shivered from the sudden heat of Ryou's breath.  
  
Ryou slowly licked away all traces of the clear liquid that had gathered at the tip, slowly dragging his tongue along the underside. When he traced the ridge beneath the head, he heard a loud hiss escape from Bakura's lips. Ryou shivered, knowing that he was the one who had affected Bakura so.  
  
"Don't stop," Bakura moaned in the darkness. Ryou answered by taking in all he could manage to where his lips met his fist. He allowed his lips to drag along the sensitive skin, and when he reached the head, turned his attentions wholly to the slit at the tip. Tasting the saltiness that now seeped freely from him, he dipped the tip of his tongue repeatedly into the slit. Bakura thrust into his mouth, his fingers tangled in his hair. His fingernails dug into Ryou's scalp, and when he hit the back of Ryou's throat and Ryou reflexively swallowed around him, Bakura cried out harshly and spilled his passion into Ryou's mouth.  
  
Ryou swallowed as much as he could and let the rest splatter on his sheets. Licking his lips, he gazed into Bakura's half-lidded eyes. "You taste good, Yami..." Ryou whispered finally. Bakura faintly wondered where Ryou had learned to do this. Running his fingers through Ryou's hair in a futile attempt to straighten out the sexy mess, he gave up and held his hikari against him as their breathing slowed.  
  
"Ai shiteru..." Bakura whispered fervently to his sleeping hikari. Ryou could not hear him; he slept too soundly. "I love you."  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Wow... I can't believe I just wrote that... It took genuine effort not to use up all of my little tricks before I'll really need them in two more chapters. Believe me, this is not the best I can do; I'm holding back. And who knows what my hentai mind might come up with in two weeks or so.   
  
I don't know if you noticed or not, but I guess I made Ryou sound like a little slut in this one. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not, or how it'll effect the plot... Well anyway, hope you enjoyed it, and tell me whether it should be called a lemon or lime.   
  
Please review!  
  
Fic's Statistics:  
  
[2] more chapters to hold out for... 


	14. XIV

Koimonogatari  
  
Warning(s) - Yaoi/shounen-ai. If you don't know what that means, you are strongly advised to leave. All flames will be publicly ridiculed at your expense.  
Disclaimer - I don't own YGO. *looks around* Right?  
  
Honda: Hi everybody! Look! I'm in a fic! Finally! *waves madly* Hi Mom! I'm famous!!!  
  
Me: aheheh... ^_^; 'scuse me for a sec...  
  
*boot*  
  
Honda: *faintly heard* Ow!  
  
Me: Thanks. Now can we get back to the fic? (Sorry I posted so late... my monitor kept blacking out and I couldn't use the computer until yesterday.)  
  
Chapter 14  
Kouin'yanogotoshi  
  
kouin'yanogotoshi - (idiom) time flies like an arrow  
  
Ryou forced himself to open his eyes and shut off the alarm clock. Stretching his arms, he vaguely thought something was amiss. Where exactly was he, and why wasn't he wearing anything under the sheets? The cloying warmth of the blankets lulled him into a sleep-like doze, and the chill air of an early December morning made it more so.   
  
It had all been a dream, then; all one heck of a good dream. But wait, there! On the floor! The black leather pants strewn so haphazardly on the floor were Yami's, and he had worn them to school yesterday, hadn't he? Ryou blinked, adjusting to the light.   
  
Looking closer, he saw that evidence of last night was still fresh on the sheets. Flushing a deep crimson, he realized what should have been apparent from the beginning; it was not a dream at all, and he had done what he thought he remembered doing.   
  
Ryou was more than a little embarrassed with what had happened. His lack of modesty shocked him, and remembering what Bakura had once said about his lack of control, he decided that Bakura had been right after all. At times his body would just take over and there was little he could do about it. However, it didn't seem that Bakura had much control either.  
  
He wondered where his yami was. It was a quarter past six in the morning, and not even an egyptian spirit ought to be up and about. Ryou sat up, the sheets falling to his hips, and looked about. The door was left ajar, and an unfamiliar but pleasant smell wafted up the stairs.  
  
Pulling on a pair of plaid boxers and his school uniform, Ryou padded downstairs in his bare feet. The smell came from the kitchen. Rounding the corner, Ryou slipped on a pair of sandals. "Ohayou, Yami," he yawned.  
  
Ryou blinked a few times, not sure if he was hallucinating. Bakura stood at the stove, wearing nothing but an apron that tied at the waist, furiously stirring something with a wooden spoon. Carrying the saucepan to the counter, he poured a pale pink concoction over something in a faceted glass bowl. Seeing Ryou's skeptical expression, he motioned toward him. "Come here, Ryou."  
  
Ryou had taken only several steps into the kitchen when a small spatula clattered to the floor. Bakura swore loudly and knelt to wipe up the mess with a paper towel, scrubbing the tiles until they shone. The sight of Bakura on his hands and knees, covered by no more than the apron strings that barely hid the cleft of his ass, made Ryou's mouth go dry. "Naughty boy," Bakura whispered in his mind. "It's far too early in the morning to be thinking such thoughts."  
  
"There's no privacy around here," Ryou muttered, but kept his end of their link open anyway. Bakura snorted. Getting to his feet, Bakura motioned for Ryou to come closer.   
  
"Close your eyes, Hikari," Bakura commanded, and Ryou obeyed instantly. Bakura held something to his lips, and taking it into his mouth, he moaned at the extraordinary taste. It was a light, sticky cake of some kind that melted on his tongue, topped with a piece of sweet, chilled melon and a delicate wine-like syrup. Ryou licked the remnants from his yami's fingers, sucking his fingertips.  
  
When Bakura removed his fingers, Ryou's eyes flew open. "What was that?"  
  
"It was my sister's recipe," Bakura said smugly. "She created it exclusively for the pharaoh, before she... left. I haven't tasted it since." Ryou felt a great sadness shadow his yami, and instinctively took a piece of the confection, bringing it to Bakura's lips. As Bakura savored it, his eyes moistened, and Ryou crushed his lips to his, breathing in the sweet scent.  
  
Dipping his fingers into the syrup, he circled Bakura's nipples and allowed Bakura to suck the remainder from his fingers before he licked away the syrup that now dripped down his bare chest. Bakura shuddered under his touch. Anything to make those tears disappear from his eyes, Ryou thought. Anything.  
  
The clock in the hallway struck at the half hour. Straightening his clothes, he allowed Bakura to feed him the rest of his breakfast and picked up his bookbag to leave. Taking a last glance at the mirror, he adjusted the stiff collar of his uniform jacket to cover the mark on his neck that identified him as Bakura's.  
  
Bakura caught his wrist as he was about to leave. Drawing Ryou close, he pressed his lips to his in a soft, chaste kiss. "Ryou... Ai shite imasu." Ryou wrenched himself away and flew out the door as if he could not bear to leave.  
  
Picking up what was left of Ryou's breakfast, he finished it and left the dishes in the sink. It was good, familiar but not quite the same. Bakura tried to imagine his sister's face, but her features kept shifting and changing; he tried to say her name, but found that he had forgotten even this. Her voice was all that remained, sweet rustling like the reeds on the Nile.  
  
Bakura returned to Ryou's bedroom, sighing in contentment. For the first time in his long life, he felt completely tranquil and yet in inner turmoil at once. How long could things stay like this -- so perfect? He knew from experience that all good things come to an end.  
  
Now, it seemed that there was a lifetime ahead of them. There was -- one lifetime. Ryou's lifetime. And when that was over -- and he knew it would pass in a heartbeat -- would Ryou leave to go to the Heavenly Father he believed in?   
  
He didn't want to live life without his light, but could he even kill himself? He didn't even know whether he was truly alive!   
  
What good would it do to grieve for Ryou when his life had barely started? Bakura chided himself. If life was so fleeting, live life to the fullest -- for if he didn't, he would regret all that he hadn't done, all the time he had been grieving that he might have spent with Ryou. If he could make his time with Ryou perfect in every way, his memories would last him forever, he thought wanly. Yes, that was the answer.  
  
He laid back on Ryou's bed, feeling his sore muscles relax beneath him. Closing his eyes, he thought wistfully of all of the things he wanted to do with -- to -- Ryou. Bakura shifted a little, making himself comfortable, and heard a faint crackle of paper beneath the pillow.  
  
It was a page torn from a calendar, he saw as he unfolded it. On one side was a picture of a kneeling young man, nude but for his blindfold and the cords that bound him, with a whip held in his teeth. Bakura's lips curved in a knowing smile before he turned the page over.  
  
The first two boxes had large crosses through them. Another read, "Winter Break!" followed by a sketch of a snowman, and farther down was a box that read, "Happy 17th!", four days before "Merry Christmas!" and five before "Bounen-kai omedetou gozaimasu." Bakura wasn't exactly sure what "Winter Break" or "Christmas" was, and he had always associated "Merry" with being drunk. And "Bounen-kai" -- did Ryou even celebrate bounen-kai?  
  
But "Happy 17th" what? It suddenly dawned upon Bakura that it must be Ryou's birthday. His seventeenth? Ah... time did pass so quickly... so quickly.  
  
Bakura had first met his hikari two years ago, on Ryou's fifteenth birthday. Then, Ryou was just a wisp of a boy, and in two years, had filled out, losing the soft curves of childhood and acquiring the lean, lanky look that Bakura sported. He'd kept his wide chocolate-colored eyes, however, that gave him the illusion of childlike innocence. But Bakura knew that his light was anything but innocent.  
  
He had been nineteen years old when he was sealed into the Ring; at that time, it was considered well into manhood. He'd met Ryou at the age of five thousand nineteen, and this year, he would be five thousand twenty-one. But looking into his mirror of burnished copper, he hadn't changed a bit; he hadn't aged at all. Bakura looked the same as he did the first morning he woke within his soul room.  
  
What he had most feared was already happening -- Ryou would age, while he would be nineteen forever. It reminded him of one of Ryou's animated movies, the one about the boy who didn't want to grow up. The difference was, he would give anything to have a normal lifespan, he thought wryly.  
  
Time was slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass, and it seemed like the harder he clenched his fingers, the more he would lose. He would have to tell Ryou soon, before he realized it himself. Bakura glanced back at the calendar. Ryou's birthday lay on the twenty-first of December. Winter Solstice, the darkest night of the year.  
  
Author's Note:  
  
This is the LAST chapter before the two lemons I promised you! No doubt you've read Miko no Hoshi's "Broken Reality"? (mm.org only) She said at the bottom of her last chapter that there would be a lemon when she got a hundred reviews. Well, now there are 130 or so and she still hasn't posted it. I think maybe she's afraid that her lemon won't be up to standards and be a let down to those reviewers.  
  
So as of now there are 45 reviews at mm.org. Guess what? No lemon until I have at least 70. I know, I know, I'm evil. But I know you want it. (And there's nothing like suspense to get you all hot and bothered, is there? *winkwink*) But you'll have your lemon soon after, I promise. (Unlike a certain "omnipotent" Miko.) 


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